The Princess of Ravenclaw
by word.oracle
Summary: Victoire Weasley has grown into a mature, confident, caring and beautiful young woman and it's finally her last year of Hogwarts. This year is meant to go perfectly, but the Triwizard Tournament brings the Beauxbatons bullies who will reveal a vulnerability no one has ever seen. Things will get brutal, but who's ready to see the dark side of Ravenclaw's Princess? Leave Reviews x
1. Chapter 1

**Fond Farewells**

Waiting meant standing around looking hopeless. Waiting meant the risk of people taking the perfect seat on the Hogwarts Express. Waiting was _not_ something Victoire Weasley was good at. It wasn't normal for Teddy to be late to see her off; he'd usually turn up ten minutes early with a piece of paper that had a romantic line in French written on it for him to say wrong. In her eyes, Teddy had become the perfect gentleman. Puberty blessed him with a husky voice that made her weak, his features had become much more defined and his jawline stood out with his hair that covered his eyes. He had also started to build muscle so that he wouldn't be called twig by his friends and so he could give Victoire longer piggybacks. All of this was amazing, but what made him perfect was all his little quirks that could only ever suit him. Apparently, lateness was becoming one of those quirks.

Such an occasion meant Victoire needed to be caught in the finest showstopping outfit. Two days in advance, she had chosen a white cashmere cropped jumper with a yellow and black tartan skater skirt, white over the knee socks and black velvet high heel boots. The accessories were a last-minute thing as searching for one of her favourite beanies and the rarely revealed black leather gloves with bows on only popped into her mind before they began getting ready to leave.

Goodbye hugs, laughs and arguments had already been had between Victoire and her parents. They went through the usual motions of Fleur listing everything that you'd have to be brainless to forget, then arguing with Bill about leaving the quidditch team and finally the hug where the three of them went silent, tried to hold tears in and rubbed their noses together as their way of saying 'I love you'. Victoire and Louis never uttered the word 'goodbye' to each other; instead they played clapping games, she'd reveal where things like the chocolate frogs were hidden and they'd perform their handshake perfectly before he gave her the once a year kiss on the cheek. This year was going to be Dominique's first year of Hogwarts, allowing Victoire to laugh as she watched her little sister try and fail to carry her unnecessary amount of luggage. Annoying Dominique had become a new talent of Victoire's which was evident in her sister's snarling face when she mimed the list their mother recited and kicked Dominique's bag of books further away from her.

Patience began to run out as Victoire walked to her thankfully vacant favourite carriage and as she put her foot on the step to board the train, a presence stopped her.

"You're late, Edward Remus Lupin!"

Turning around wasn't necessary when Teddy had drenched himself in what could only be described as a rustic scent. Victoire knew exactly what he'd be wearing. Saturday meant that his old pair of jeans with invincible stains would appear with a disintegrating green polo shirt as the headliner and a thick grey checked shirt that it was always not cold enough for would be wrapped around his hips as back up. All these predictions were correct, but what Victoire did not foresee was a bouquet of champagne roses and blue tulips that blew bubble kisses and a tiffany blue box that was clutched in his mouth.

"I thought you'd want a surprise," the tiffany box distorted Teddy's voice.

Victoire place her bag on the floor, pulled the box out from his mouth and instantly kissed him, minding the bouquet of flowers in between them. Kisses full of love and bliss made her never want to leave, yet the parting kiss was something she looked forward to. As their lips collided, Teddy wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in closer despite the call for all students to board the train and Victoire ran her fingers up the back of his neck and through his hair to savour every inch of him. She knew the longer she stayed in his arms, the less likely Teddy was to even loosen his grip and he began to trace heart shapes on her back. Tonka, Victoire's fox, yanked at her socks alongside Dominique calling for her like a relentless magpie in the early morning. Interrupted kisses were an unfortunate regular occurrence for the couple.

Teddy fiddled with her hair, "there won't be a day where I-"

"I swear to God, if you yell my name again, your tongue will become Tonka's breakfast!" Victoire yelled to Dominique,

"-won't miss you,"

"Je suis désole, doudou. You know I will write to you, think about you and dream about you, but for every second without you, I will not be complete."

At the sound of the steam engine, Victoire put the flowers and the box in her bag, hastily picked it up and gave Teddy a final goodbye kiss, before hopping on the train. Once on the train, she turned around to a puppy dog eyed Teddy, reached into her pocket and blew him a kiss, freeing a singing origami bluebird from her palm that flew into his hand. Witnessing Teddy's face light up as the bluebird morphed into tickets to his favourite band next to a polaroid of the couple by the beach was the third gift of the day.

"You're not the only one full of surprises," she winked,

"Bleh, romance, bleh bleh, happiness," Lucas Youngstead jokingly pretended to throw up as he stood behind her,

"Shut up, snake boy," she hit his arm as she followed him to their regular carriage.

As the two sat down, they were joined by their friends Brea Hedgethorne and Aaron Choi. Departing for Hogwarts was always done as the same quartet since year two and it had only just slammed Victoire over the head with a loud bang that this would be the last time.

September 1st, 2018 would be the last day that Victoire would leave King's Cross St Pancras, watch her father wave while holding her attempting not to cry mother, laugh at her brother running after the train and remember the one book she forgot to bring with her. But the final thing she'd see would be Teddy at the very end of the platform, blowing her a kiss and then finally wrapping his shirt around him. The sensation to cry crept up on her as Teddy became smaller and smaller until she could no longer see him, and the train became engulfed by the first of many tunnels.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Favourite Four**

Steaming through rolling hills in all their variations of green and passing gloss-like lakes could never get old and Victoire would always take photographs of the same picturesque scenes each year. To keep the running theme going, she sat in the second booth of the second carriage, facing forward, next to the window and with the same three award winning friends.

Slouching with his head against the window and his legs wide open was Lucas Youngstead. Lucas was an undeniably gorgeous Slytherin. His six-foot-two muscular frame made him attractive enough on its own, yet shoulder length glowing golden-brown hair, beautiful blue eyes and a dangerously sharp jawline was added to create the ultimate temptation. Though Victoire had a secret liking of the way he only tied up half of his hair and his leather jackets, she was very much able to resist the temptation of Lucas. Their love-hate friendship began during their second year and despite the arguments, it was still going strong. He wore his favourite black leather jacket with a toxic green snake on the back, a white v neck t-shirt and in what seemed like an attempt to express his appreciation for Victoire, he wore the blue jeans she had gotten him from Paris.

"Where's Pluto?" Victoire asked as she put her camera down,

"He's shedding his skin, so he's got a snake five-star hotel suite up there," Lucas looked worryingly up at a large reflecting metal case,

"I swear your heart only wakes up for leather jackets, your hair and your snake," Brea sighed,

"Depends what you mean by 'snake'."

Brea Hedgethorne demonstrated her trademark eyeroll as the others laugh. Brea was known as the girl who should've been a Hufflepuff but was gifted to Ravenclaw. Unlike Victoire's soft features, Brea's were very striking with her sleek and bold eyebrows curving over her entrancing large grey eyes, her cheeks were sucked in meaning no need for contouring and her delicate pale pink lips moved as elegantly as a feather falling when she talked. Year four was the year of liberation for Brea; she cut her chestnut brown hair into an angular bob paired with a bang fringe and her style went from regular to constantly shopping at thrift stores, tucking jumpers into jeans and wearing berets. Though her reserved personality was different to Victoire's outgoing self, the two bonded throughout their first year and even began to share each other's clothes.

"It's like with each year, you gain a new pornographic part of your brain," Aaron spoke with a hilariously flat voice as he stroked his cat,

"How do you do that?" Lucas laughed,

"Do what?"

"Say a joke without laughing," Brea had begun to cry from laughter at Aaron's clueless face.

There was no one like Aaron Choi or Choi Aaron if you wanted to be perfectly correct. The scar that descended diagonally from the bridge of his nose to his right cheek was what intrigued Victoire during her first year. He had a rounded face with high cheek bones that you felt constantly inclined to squish and poke and squeeze, he was even paler than Victoire and his almond shaped brown eyes glowed no matter what. Aaron was maybe the only person Victoire was jealous of; his parents had sent him all the way from Seoul to Hogwarts, knowing that his dream was to attend the famous school of magic. He had a humbleness about him, but would never beat around the bush, making him the second bluntest person in Ravenclaw. This is how he and Victoire bonded during their first year, that and his ability to always look stylish even if his favourite outfit was an oversized jumper with jeans.

"It's the Choi effect," Victoire laughed as the sound of a trolley came closer.

Sherbet lemons, exploding bonbons, liquorice wands, chocolate frogs and salt water taffy- the sweets that the four loved so much that the woman already knew what they'd be buying. They stacked all the sweet and savoury snacks in a pile in the air, so they could take them like sliding a Christmas ornament off of a Christmas tree. Aaron's cat, Mino, and Tonka sprang continuously up at the twirling floating pile of snacks until they gave up and rested underneath them.

Once the first visit from the spectacular sweet trolley had come to an end, Victoire noticed Dominique skipping behind it and she swayed back and forth at the entrance to their booth. Despite her big sister's desperate appeal, Dominique wore blue and pink polka dot dungarees over a white turtleneck, when blue definitely wasn't her colour. Many arguments had occurred between the sisters with Dominique never apologising for the nasty words she spat. The excited grin on her face was only enough to make Victoire wave without lifting her head from the crossword she and Aaron were completing. She already knew what was going to be asked of her since her mother stressed that Victoire took care of her little sister at all times, but that didn't mean she'd oblige.

"Can I sit with you?" Dominique spoke with a sickly-sweet voice,

"Comment puis-je dire cela en anglais?" Victoire teased,

"What does that mean?"

"No, maggot."

Dominique glanced from Aaron, to Lucas, to Brea and back to Victoire in hope that one of her friends would invite her to sit down, but they couldn't care where she sat, as long as it wasn't with them.

"Mama said-" Dominique insisted,

"Mama has said a lot of thing," Victoire's French accent became harsher, "Mama told us not to break any ornaments and to stay loyal to each other, but you obviously ignored her then. So, I'm going to ignore her now."

If it was five years ago, Victoire would've had her hands coiled around Dominique's throat with her friends attempting to drag her away from killing her, however she had matured and instead leered at her sister until she got the message and dropped her head down. Just as Dominique started to turn around, Fred arrived at the door with Victoire's fox Tonka sprinting to him and rubbing her head along the bottom of his leg.

Fred and Victoire had become very close over secrets and being the two oldest of the Weasley clan. In all honesty, Fred was one of the only cousins Victoire could stand, to the point where she was slightly disappointed that she couldn't call him her brother. The sun made his caramel skin glow and caught the natural golden highlights in his short brown hair, while his hazel eyes lit up as he began to play with Tonka.

"You took your time getting here," Brea smiled at Fred,

"Yeah, I was deeply into a game of wizards chess," Fred replied in a cooing voice as he played with Tonka,

"Oh, what's up, Fred?" Lucas said in his husky voice.

It was almost impossible not to notice Fred's eyes widen upon hearing Lucas's voice and he hesitantly entered the booth while refusing to look directly at Lucas. The reason for this was something Victoire had sworn not to tell anyone and she had guessed that Lucas was at least partially aware of it. She softly took Fred's hand while mouthing that he should remain calm as she guided him to sit in between her and Aaron. Fred started to squeeze her hand and he reached into his pocket for some candy to calm himself down.

"Why does he get to hang out with you guys, and I can't?!" Dominique's tantrum had begun,

"Because he's pleasant to be around. Do you wish for me to list more reasons?" Victoire was done with her sister and didn't care how mean her words were.

This made Fred break his mini panic episode and laugh as he always did whenever sassy phrases left Victoire's lips. Lucas reshuffled the cards while Victoire handed out snacks amongst them as they began telling nostalgic stories of the wild things they had done together.


	3. Chapter 3

**Crowning and Breaking**

Humble. An extra-terrestrial word for some when found in boasting and bragging worthy scenarios but being a high achiever like Victoire meant mastering this great act. Perfect grades, former beater in her Quidditch team and popular socialite plus being a prefect and carrying the good Weasley name equalled to only one thing. Head girl. It felt only right that towards the end of last year, she suggested other fellow Ravenclaws to earn the title such as Brea and Taissa Prude who was sweeter than Hogwarts Express candy and captain of the Quidditch team. But, ultimately, the feather was tipping in Victoire's favour and it seemed like everyone in her house knew it. Excitement and nerves began to take hold as tables were cleared and Professor McGonagall prepared to take centre stage.

"I need to hit the muggle gym tomorrow," Brea sighed as she pat her stomach,

"Since when did you use muggle gyms? Wait, no no…why do you even _need _a gym?" Aaron had never looked so shocked,

"There's only one gym near my house and it just happens to be a muggle one okay. Just because you have a metabolism that's constantly on speed."

Another muggle reference that the great Aaron Choi didn't understand. As the table laughed, the cling of cutlery tapping glass goblets began to crescendo around the hall until all eyes were on the Headmistress.

"While you all digest your feast, announcements are to be made," McGonagall proceeded to recite her usual introduction of teachers and the forbidden areas.

During this, Victoire became distracted by Fred lip-syncing to the words, forcing many students to hold in giggles or disguise them as coughs. As hilarious as this was, butterflies continued to flutter around in Victoire's stomach as McGonagall's speech inched closer to the revelation of the head students. How was she meant to react? Being speechless was very much unlike her, but she was aware that talking too much would get people's eyes rolling. What if she had a wardrobe malfunction or tripped over the steps? Worry after worry entered her head, yet like an immune system, her brain extinguished them, reminding her that she has dealt with and will deal with anything that came her way in her usual classy fashion.

"After careful consideration of the many magnificent students we have here at Hogwarts, decisions have been made regarding our head boys and girls," McGonagall unravelled the all-important scroll, "the following have been selected due to not only their academic achievements, but also their personality, their work ethic and reputation amongst their fellow classmates."

Brea suddenly shakily squeezed Victoire's hand with thrill and tension coating her face as she tapped her feet in anticipation. There was the dramatic wait as the head boys and girls from Gryffindor and Slytherin were revealed.

"Our head boy from Slytherin is a young man who always motivates those around him and is full of spirit. Slytherin's head boy is Lucas Youngstead," deep roaring, howling and girlish squeals erupted from the Slytherin house table.

In true Lucas style, he performed handshakes with his mates, blew empty kisses to desperately parched girls and chanted Celtic nonsense that made the headmistress go from amused to insulted. He became engulfed in a green and black sea, but powered through it, leapt across tables and wrapped his arms in celebration around Victoire, Brea and Aaron.

"YOUNSTEAD, YOUNSTEAD

THE SCOTTISH KNIGHT

HE'S GOT BRAIN, MUSCLES AND GOOD LOOKS

ALWAYS READY FOR THE FIGHT!"

This was chanted as they huddled in a circle and celebrated what they honestly didn't think would come for the reckless Scottish stud.

"Yes, yes, yes, Lucas, we get it, now come to the front and accept your badge," McGonagall had clearly had enough.

The Lucas parade slowly sat down as he had his badge pinned to his robes and stood in the line of the newly crowned head students. It was now Ravenclaw's turn.

"Many students were considered from Ravenclaw, but it only seemed logical to have this individual as head girl. She has never disappointed academically, is always a friendly face in the corridors and not only has she become a beacon for Hogwarts, but I know in my heart that her family would declare war against me if I did not choose her," at McGonagall's words, Ravenclaw let out blue sparks from their wands which fizzled and glowed to morph into the name _Victoire_.

Celebrations for Victoire's crowning as head girl had become surprisingly civilised. All the new head students hosted a party that spread through the corridors like wild fire and eventually had to be shut down as various students were discovered hanging from the staircases as they moved and not knowing how they got there. Admittedly, Victoire did allow some students to stay out past curfew and had had a couple of glasses of something that was most likely spiked by the deceptively innocent Hufflepuff head girl, Marigold Craft. The fact that she started a dance flash mob while yelling the words to Coldplay Viva la Vida, and even daring to belt out songs by the controversial band The Bent-Winged Snitches were simply minor details. Silence finally swept through the halls when McGonagall took fifty points from each house as she forced them to go to their dorms with threats that sent chills down the sturdiest of spines. While others went to bed so they could be up bright and early, many 7th years stayed up waiting for the buzz to leave their systems.

"But I am Victoire Weasley's sister, surely I can come in," Victoire heard Dominique beg.

It wasn't her fault that she had been placed in Slytherin, making her the third sibling to not follow the tradition of being a Gryffindor, but in all honestly, Victoire was relieved that she wasn't a Ravenclaw. Dominique had _many_ habits that drove Victoire up the wall, along the ceiling and back down again, however no matter how horrid she was, Dominique was her sister and it was her job to make sure that the first year of Hogwarts didn't result in Dominique's crucifixion. She sat in the common room with Aaron, Brea and other Ravenclaw's, playing cards and drinking alcohol that somehow made it through and Dominique was about to ruin it.

"Cette sangsue," Victoire sighed heavily as she stormed over to the door with Tonka skipping by her feet.

Swinging open the door, Victoire glared down at her sister with disappointment and frustration radiating off of her body. The two Ravenclaw's by the door took one glance at her, and sprinted into the dorm, taking cover from the fire, but not before propping open the door so they could eavesdrop. Dominique's eyes were full of respect and joy looking up at her big sister who had gone from just being a prefect to also being head girl. This hushed Victoire for a second as she missed having Dominique look at her this way and was brought back to when she was a toddler and they'd dress up together. Yet all that was in the past, and the sweet, innocent and loving little sister Victoire once had, had scattered away like a dandelion in the wind.

"What do you want?" she scooped up Tonka and began stroking her head,

"I wanted to congratulate you; you're my sister," Dominique smiled,

"Thank you. I gave you a hug in the hall,"

"I know but when I tried to talk to you, you just walked past me to Fred,"

"Do you really need to be told why?"

Boiling point was being reached just by Dominique talking, it was like she was asking for an argument by coming to Victoire's dorm when she obviously didn't want to talk to her.

"Why do you always bring that up? For the hundredth time, I AM SORRY." Dominique's sweet face contorted to one full of rage,

"I do not always bring it up, Dominique, you just seem to forget the consequences of what you did," Victoire retaliated.

"But it was ages ago and I didn't do it to hurt you,"

"BUT YOU DID," Victoire had had enough.

Dominique stumbled back at her sister's outburst with her eyes wide open and Tonka jumped out of Victoire's hands.

"You made a promise, a promise that my happiness depended on and you broke it as easily as snapping a twig. My love for you will be titanium, but my respect for you, my tolerance for you is like china and you just smashed all over the ground."

Dominique had run out of things to say. Victoire had hoped that by now that she would've forgiven her sister; all she wanted was for everything to be as jolly and movie-screen-perfect as it was before, but Dominique had done nothing to allow the dust to settle. Nausea took over with every argument they had and though Victoire's deceptively strong-willed expression refused to let it show, the mini feud between the two sisters was torturing her. Every interaction reduced her to resembling an exasperated and fatigued boxer who was relentlessly forced to fight and every blow, though successful, was agonizing. The silence between the two of them was a thickening fog that made Victoire lose sight of her sister.

"When you break china on the floor," Victoire's voice was soft as she pushed open the door, "just saying sorry… doesn't fix it."


	4. Chapter 4

**The L Word **

Living without Victoire Weasley. If anything, it should've been one of the simplest tasks as it involved being able to wear unmatching socks, having the whole bed to himself and eating noodles without having them slurped up by someone else. Teddy sat in front of the fireplace with one damp purple sock and one damp green striped sock, a hot steaming bowl of noodles in aunt Molly's special broth and was about ready to go to bed afterwards. A nipping cold breeze had engulfed the cottage, forcing all the couples to retreat to the warmth of the fire and the filling comfort of food. Harry and Ginny were cuddled up on the sofa with Molly humming away next to them and Hermione and Ron had come out of the bathroom together with their still dripping hair darkening spots of the thick thermal soft blanket that surrounded them. Arthur was away on business, leaving aunt Molly to occasionally wrap his usual blanket around her tighter to create the illusion of his comforting hold. Gazing to his right shoulder became habit for Teddy, and not seeing a head of flowing butter blonde hair caused him to let out a heavy sigh as he put down his bowl. He needed Victoire's angelic voice to comment on his odd socks while the correct one was revealed, he craved for his noodles to gradually disappear with the sound of sweet slurps filling his ear and he yearned to be led up to the bedroom knowing he'd be fighting over the duvet for the majority of the night. He wished for and desired Victoire.

"You better finish that before it goes warm," Ron said calmly.

Teddy replied with a nod as he rolled his right shoulder to make it feel a little more at ease.

"You'll get used to it," Molly chimed with her eyes closed and a smile on her face,

"Used to what?" Teddy asked quietly,

"Living without her little quirks, without the things that make your day special. We've all done it and made it through the other side,"

"This is the first time I've missed her this much,"

"Ooooo," Ginny giggled, "little Teddy Lupin is feeling the L word."

The L word? Teddy had thought about whether he was ready to say it; he and Victoire had promised to not say it just to sound cute and only when they truly meant it, but up until now, it hadn't been proclaimed. Only within the last week had he realized that whenever he thought of the future- even what he would have the next day for dinner- Victoire was there. When he thought of her for too long, his hair would gain streaks of the same blonde as her and he needed to hear at least one French word a day or he couldn't sleep properly. Maybe this was the L word, and if it was, it was a rollercoaster he'd happily stay on for life.

With a few swishes and flicks of his wand, he summoned a piece of parchment, a quill and something for him to lean on.

"Writing the L word letter?" Ron teased,

"I'd rather have it in a letter than having you wail it at me in the rain," Hermione laughed as she pulled the blankets over her feet,

"You told me that was romantic,"

"I tell you a lot of things, Ronald."

_Dear Vivi,_

_I know it hasn't been long into the first year, but I'm already missing you. The first shift at the shop went well, some punks tried to steal things but the old turn into a hound and scare them off trick worked like a charm. I was thinking of sending you some of those muggle chocolates that you like; I doubt that you have any time to even think about topping up your secret stash. I know for a fact that you'll be a legendary head girl, just don't let all that power go to your head. I miss you, I really do. _

At that point, he'd usually end the letter with _Ton Garçon Loup_, but he shovelled a lump of steaming noodles into his mouth as he contemplated whether to write that all important word. He uneasily tapped the boil as he stared down at the space on the parchment daring him to write it, to write the word he thought he was feeling. But what if he wasn't feel it? This could've just been him missing his girlfriend and the storm of heartache and yearning would eventually pass. He couldn't say it, let alone write it without being sure. With another slurp of noodles and the broth flicking onto the parchment. Teddy proceeded to write the usual closing words but added floating hearts and an extra kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

**And So It Began**

How was it possible for just one day of lessons to be so incredibly draining? Victoire asked herself this as she lay on the grass with a book covering her face and Tonka sunbathing on her stomach. Surely choosing the subjects you enjoy was meant to make studying less gruelling, yet she was discovering that that wasn't the case. The sun was contemplating on setting while a cooling breeze occasionally made a welcomed appearance and every time it stirred up leaves, Tonka would run into the middle of the mini tornado and catch as many leaves as possible. But defence against the dark arts cast a shadow on such a pleasant evening.

"Still attempting to know everything?" Fred sat next to her.

Victoire shoved the book onto the grass and sat up, just noticing the beautiful pinks gradually entering the sky, telling her it was soon dinner time.

"I don't know enough, Fred. You'd think all that extra studying I did would actually come in handy," she sighed as she slid the book into her bag,

"Not everyone can be an aunt Hermione; even she thinks she's a rare species of witch,"

"But I _need_ to be."

Slowly, Victoire's brain was starting to shut down after the constant studying and the overflowing amount of knowledge it was forced to absorb. This was the state she planned on being in most days; it was a sign that she was doing enough to become the student her parents would be proud of. Fred and her friends had given up on trying to mend her ways, for she was so admittedly stubborn and had set what _she_ believed were reasonably high standards.

"Mum and dad say congratulations on becoming head girl, they're really proud of you," Fred stroked Tonka,

"Oh, I'll write to them later," Victoire became distracted by a shadow growing on them.

Casting this shadow was Humphrey Starling. There was never much to say about the round Gryffindor, mainly because he was as interesting as a white wall, as shallow as a teaspoon and had less personality than a black board. In his fifth year, he had gained the delusion that bullying was a suitable hobby and now in his sixth year, he had acquired the nerve to make Fred his prey.

"Well, if it isn't wand lover Weasley," Humphrey strolled up to him,

"I don't see how that's an insult," Fred innocently looked at him,

"You wouldn't, but that's due to your lack of brain,"

"Let's see if you can still speak such nonsense with a lack of teeth," a strong husky voice threatened.

Though Fred attempted to contain his smile, his cheeks turned the colour of the pink sky and Victoire had to release at least one giggle. It was typical of Lucas to make these entrances. He was almost always Fred's knight in shining armour waiting in the wings ever since he started getting bullied. Humphrey's eyes widened at Lucas's voice and he became frozen in place.

"I dare you to turn around," Victoire laughed.

A firm shake of the head was the only movement from Humphrey's body as Lucas strode in front of him and folded his arms. His biceps pressed against the restraints of his shirt, adding to his threatening demeanour and attracting the surrounding swooning girls.

"If I were you, I'd take your food shovelling ass away from here," Lucas smirked,

"I understand why barbie over there stands up for him, but why would you?"

Victoire bolted up, stood to attention and looked Humphrey up and down. She had been picked on once or twice and 'barbie' had been the one label that made her switch from zero to infinity in seconds. Calmly, she guided Lucas back to stand next to Fred, so it was just her and Humphrey. She studied him. Considered her options.

"As head girl, I have multiple options. I could get Lucas to beat you up, or knowing your OWL scores, I could just challenge you to a duel and make a fool out of you," she stared at him.

"Or what wannabe French barbie?" Humphrey rudely interrupted.

In a blink of an eye, Victoire waved her wand, stopping Humphrey from speaking or making the tiniest sounds.

"Or, I could report you to professor McGonagall for bullying which is taken extremely seriously and results in the harshest of punishments. Now, listen very carefully, I'm going to put your actions down to you being brought up by bacteria and all that fat mass murdering your braincells, but if you dare talk to any member of my family or any of my friends again, you'll plead for dementors over me."

Elegantly, she spun around, picked up her bag and signalled for Fred and Lucas to follow her into the castle. Tonka snarled at Humphrey before trotting by Victoire's feet and without turning back, she swirled her wand, allowing him to speak again.

"You have been warned!"

There's nothing like a Hogwarts feast, because a Hogwarts feast replenishes itself continuously until you're stuffed. Victoire had dived into a mountain of chicken, created a valley of mash potatoes with a gravy river, moreish vegetable stones at the bottom and a Yorkshire pudding manor on the top. Of course, she had helped herself to two servings despite the Weasley average being three, but this was in effort to save at least an inch of room for dessert which had to be a chocolate brownie followed by an apple crumble with silky custard. This warm comforting banquet blanket was however second to Grandma Molly's family feasts where she'd cater to everyone's individual tastes, something Victoire knew she'd start to miss. Stuffing her face wasn't the true highlight; it was Aaron complaining that the food wasn't spicy enough and proceeding to slip our Korean condiments which burned everyone's mouths when tried, Brea attempting to look healthy by hiding sausages and potatoes under a cloak of greens and sly food fights usually started between Hufflepuffs and Slytherins.

Ten minutes after Victoire's food baby had reached its maximum size, Professor McGonagall captivated the halls' attention by simply tapping her glass with her fork. There was a seriousness in her expression, yet the excitement that joined it couldn't be hidden. Whatever she was about to announce was going to make or break the year.

"Tonight, marks the beginning of a special event returning to Hogwarts," she announced, "but before I reveal what it is, may I introduce to you the fine young ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and the incredible students from Durmstrang!"

Both entrances into the buzzing great hall did well in elevating the excitement levels of the Hogwarts students. Victoire recalled as a child, her mother describing how difficult it was to prance so elegantly in time with a sea of silk vivid sky blue and how you could never prepare for such a tall, powerful and ethereal woman to strut by you. Rumours were in constant rotation of the rugged handsomeness and the intriguing dark exterior of the Durmstrang boys, but no one had ever even mumbled about how poised and attractive the girls were. Though she wanted to, Victoire couldn't wave at the Beauxbatons like all the other girls; her stomach performed backflips when she tried, and she instead performed a flirty wave towards the Durmstrangs who craved her attention. The excitement remained, yet the room grew silent as everyone's focus moved to the front of the hall.

Covered by a silver cloak entered a centrepiece at least seven feet tall and exuding a fiendish aura that made the light recede into the corners of the hall. Though many of the teachers were eager for the spectacle to be revealed, there was a heavy dread lingering on Professor Longbottom and McGonagall's faces as the suspense grew around the mystery object. McGonagall's silence continued as she took slow steps around it with only an inch separating her hand and the fabric, but purposely no less.

"A tradition was once welcome to our castle during dark and unspeakable times," the words made Victoire's heart heavy with the realisation of what the dark time was, "but as the grey clouds clear, the sun's rays shall revive what was lost."

Another centrepiece was brought it, also covered, but this time slimmer with a pale blue glow penetrating what hid it from the students. Whispers began to spread around the hall as McGonagall stood in between the two towers with her eyes scanning the room and sympathy pouring out of them.

"The Triwizard Tournament," silenced the whispered, "is no mere game of the bold. It is a gruelling and dangerous challenge of the brave and skilled. If you wish to enter for the glory, the fame and the title, please forget I ever notified you of the tournament and remain a spectator. Those who wish to enter in order to prove something to themselves or to better themselves may write their name on a piece of parchment and drop in into-"

The goblet of fire. The words were said as the goblet was revealed with roaring blue flames rising from it. Gazing into the flames ignited something powerful within Victoire. It was powerful enough to block out all noises except from her pounding heart, morph everything but the goblet and the hypnotizing fire blurry and send tingles raging through her body. Her hand patted over her robes, searching for a scrap piece of parchment while her eyes refused to break away from the flame. Nothing felt righter than taking part in the tournament. At first, she thought it was the title that appealed to her and it was her ego taking over, but no; she need to prove that she was good enough to follow in her mother's footsteps and more than good enough to be a Beauxbaton by beating them like a drum. She would no longer be the wannabe French barbie and people would stop questioning her abilities; she'd be worthy and that's all she ever craved. She just wanted to be worthy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Round Two**

"But didn't your uncle Harry and your _own mother_ tell you the horrible stories?" Brea ranted as she changed for bed,

"Yes, but things were different back them," Victoire excused,

"Just because we don't have deranged witches and wizards trying to storm the castle, doesn't mean the tournament won't be any less dangerous."

Thrill and anticipation lingered around every inch of the castle after the grand announcement and arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students. Hundreds of students were debating whether to enter their name into the goblet of fire, to put their reputations on the line and to test their knowledge, however, Victoire was not debating. The moment they left the grand hall, Brea instantly knew what was going on in Victoire's head, and like the protective friend she was, she wanted Victoire to at least think about her decision for a couple of days. Everyone was going to be like that. Pleads and begs to reconsider would come her way if she notified her family about the Triwizard tournament and just thinking about it was making Victoire even more exhausted as her eyes began to struggle to stay open. She sat on her bed as she plaited her soft hair and watched Tonka drag her slippers into place by her bed.

"All I'm saying is, maybe you should give it two or three days before you make a definite decision and talk to your parents first," Brea yawned as she got into bed,

"Brea, it is something ridiculous o'clock in the morning and you are not going to change my mind, so let's just sleep and talk about this over breakfast," Victoire sighed,

"Okay but promise me you'll at least tell Teddy before you enter."

A brief silence occurred as Victoire slipped into bed with Tonka nesting comfortably against the curve of her waist. Telling Teddy everything had become habit to Victoire, but was the Triwizard tournament going to be the one and only exception? Having someone outside of school to talk to could be better and especially when he would be a real asset when it came to preparing for the tournament. There would be someone at home for her to confide in. She pulled up the collar of the shirt she was to sleep in and heavily inhaled the scent of muskiness mixed with fresh hay and a faint hint of bacon.

"So, you promise?" Brea spoke softly,

"Yes, I promise."

_Dear Tedster,_

_I miss you too. I don't think I want to take your shirt off, but I have to get ready for lessons soon. Excitement has met Hogwarts along with an autumn breeze and the arrival of students from two other schools. You should've seen how beautiful all the Beauxbatons students looked in their pristine uniforms and their shoes looked so expensive. I admit that my heart gained weight thinking about how that could've been me. They all read different books as well and their bags are like mine, not like that tatty one father wanted me to use, although I admit, it is a great bag for storing my magazines in._

_This is the part that is important and that I wish for you to keep from everyone else. The Triwizard Tournament has started again! It was a shock to me, and you should've seen the dread on Professor Longbottom's face._

_Yes, I plan on entering, I don't know why you would even ask that._

_Yes, I know how dangerous it is, I have Brea here on your behalf making a very thorough risk assessment._

_No, I do not plan on telling any of the family (other than Fred) about it until I am selected. There is no point of making a fuss and giving grandmama Molly a heart attack when there is a high chance that I won't be chosen._

_I know you'll support me no matter what and that's honestly all I want from you._

_Just please do not tell anyone about this until I say. It's bad enough I have to try and keep it from Miss-big-mouth-Dominique and I know it will be a struggle for you because there isn't an even close to bad bone in your precious body, but you are one of the only people I trust to be able to keep my secrets, Edward. That's all I have to say really._

_Your Angel Victoire xox_

_P.S. The biscuits from France are in the fuchsia velvet box under my bed and next to it will be your backup skateboard._

Victoire ended up having her mind shuffle from the tournament, to Teddy, to studies and back again throughout her ancient runes class. She knew someone was talking, who to and what about, she really couldn't tell you as everything around her, even the sound of book pages being turned were muffled. She needed a plan of action in case she was chosen for the tournament. Acting surprised was a must, but was she going to hug her friends and then skip down towards the front of the hall or was she going to be more graceful about it? She had to revise her charms beforehand, maybe four pages of revision a night and then going over the same pages in the morning was a good routine and what about herbology? Knowing the basics on everything surely necessary. Maybe Teddy would come to watch her, and he'd wear the black turtleneck tucked into the jeans that hugged his hips beautifully and he'd hug her at the end of every tournament as well as smother her with kisses and…

"And Victoire, if you could translate the first line and the third line," interrupted her racing thoughts,

"Graphorn, quintaped, demiguise, demiguise, and erm, ehwaz, dragon and tail," the answers were somehow found within seconds of being demanded,

"And here I was thinking you weren't paying any attention, Miss Weasley,"

"How little you know me then, Professor Babbling."

Thankfully, Professor Babbling gave the signal for them to leave and Victoire sped out to find Brea and Aaron waiting for her opposite the exit. Concern filled Brea's face, whereas Aaron had a hint of excitement in his subtle smile as he lifted a large brown paper bag. The three found a tree to form a circle under around the paper bag. Once opened, red, blue and silver fireworks soared out of the bag into the air, creating swirls, stars and a climatic dragon as the mouth-watering fumes of food followed. Aaron's mother sent him a bag like this at the beginning of each month with enough for exactly three people and their names written on which dish was meant for them with personalized chopsticks. This time, Victoire's chopsticks were a midnight blue at the top with an ice blue dragon which seemed to breathe out the silver at the bottom. Opening her lunch made her sigh with relief as the torrent of thoughts came to a halt and were pushed to the back of her mind.

"Your mum is a gift from some sort of god," Brea smiled as she stuffed ramen into her mouth,

"I know, but she doesn't," Aaron was about to take a bite of his food when he was disturbed by the arrival of Dominique.

Smiling at the arrival of her little sister was something Victoire hadn't done in a while, but there was something about her confused yet confident face, the sun emphasising the hints of ginger in her hair and the booked clutched to her chest that was endearing.

"I don't get this place, why is it so big?!" Dominique complained.

Victoire made a space for Dominique and gave her one of her strawberry milk bottles. Fighting was common between sisters, especially with such an age gap, but there had to be moments where the bickering ceased, and they could have moments to laugh at in five years time.

"If anything goes wrong, go to Lucas," was just about audible from Aaron's full mouth,

"I'm not like his group of friends, he won't want to talk to me," Dominique's head began to hang low,

"What are you talking about? He _has_ to look after you; it's his job," Brea assured,

"Oh, and I threatened to crush his crystal balls if anything happens to you," Victoire handed her little sister a spoon while she took the lid off of her bibimbap,

"I don't remember you mentioning he had taken divination,"

"Wrong balls, ma sœur."

As they howled with laughter with good food, the sun beamed down on them and all thoughts of studies and the tournament were picked up and whisked away by the occasional pleasantly cool breeze. Tales of embarrassing first year experiences were shared as Victoire started to pack all the rubbish back into the brown paper bag. Stress had completely taken over her so quickly within the first couple of days and it was starting to affect her emotions, but this joyous lunch kept the storm at bay.

"I'm glad we could put your mind at rest," Brea softly spoke,

"Yeah, this will get you thinking clearer about the whole tournament thing," Aaron said light-heartedly.

There was a short chuckle shared by the three, all of them knowing that such a subject could never just be swept under the carpet. Victoire appreciated her best friends' efforts and she allowed a grateful grin to show before taking the second to last gulp of her strawberry milk.

"I think Lucas should enter, but _you_, Vicki, couldn't survive for five minutes," Dominique's joke wasn't being well received.

Brea and Aaron slid closer together as they witnessed the sister bomb hit zero seconds and prepared for the explosion. Rapidly growing rage crept up on Victoire as she bit her lip with the hope that she could hold herself back.

"What part of your logic deficient brain thought that _that_ comment was necessary?" she gritted her teeth and closed her eyes,

"I was just being truthful, like Mama taught us to," Dominique didn't seem phased,

"She also taught us French, loyalty and how to be respectful, yet you obviously weren't paying attention,"

"Why do you always have to be such a bitch to me?"

A sharp gasp left the two spectators' mouths upon hearing a word they had crucially learnt to never say to Victoire. Talking to your own sister shouldn't be such a gruelling task, yet no matter how hard she tired, an argument was inevitable. Love for her sister, like the sun being hidden by the thick grey clouds, was becoming blocked off by frustration.

"The list of reasons why is longer than my arm. You've become impossible to be around," Victoire attempted to keep her voice down,

"You're no easier," retorted Dominique,

"That's probably because nothing can penetrate that small thick skull of yours,"

"Well, at least I'm smart enough to get my Beauxbatons letter!"

Ambushed by heavy rage, Victoire threw the remaining contents of her cold strawberry milk in her sister's face; not even feeling any remorse as she watched drops of the pale pink liquid drip from her nose. Hitting such a sensitive spot in Victoire's life rendered her unable to control both her words and her actions- something she expected her own sister to be aware of. Scorching anger darted though her veins, making her almost oblivious to all the students eagerly watching her like an intense drama. If she wanted to, she could slap Dominique or spit the most vicious and vile words at her; no one was holding her back and she was sure that many would even support her.

"Get out of my face," she spoke in a low growl as a single tear crawled out of the corner of her right eye,

"I'm telling Papa about this!"

"I said GO YOU LITTLE BRAT!"

Stumbling hastily to her feet, Dominique scooped up her books and ran inside, wiping milk out of her eyes and off of her nose. Victoire's eyes did not stop glaring at the spot where her sister sat and bravely said those wicked words that triggered a scarring memory. The trees morphed into her rustic grey wooden front door with the grass becoming the cold floorboards and the hurt struck her as she stared at the letter box, waiting for her Beauxbatons letter. There was almost silence, apart from the sound of the clock ticking and the waves gently rolling in and retreating back to keep her company. Staring at the letterbox would achieve nothing and she'd even close her eyes for a minute, hoping that when she opened them, the letter would be floating down to the floor. Her hands trembled as the scene left her mind and she glanced at those watching her.

"Even the Mona Lisa doesn't get this many stares. Bug off!" the crowd did as they were commanded with the sound of chattering increasing as they went back to their lives.

Limply, Victoire slid the pile of rubbish out of the way, rested her head on Brea's thigh and pulled her robe over her head so she could only see darkness. Endless studying was draining, but fighting with Dominique rendered her weak as she hated speaking to someone she loved unconditionally that way. Not everything in her life could be perfect, but she would trade her seemingly near perfect image for a better relationship with her sister in a heartbeat. Strong was the sensation to scream, but her emotions couldn't win this time as Aaron comfortingly stoked her head.


	7. Chapter 7

**Could You Feed Yourself to the Fire?**

Special occasions mandatorily came with their own outfits, lipstick colour, accessories and shoes, and putting her name in the goblet of fire was proving a difficult occasion to get ready for. Most of the older students would be there, not to mention the piercing judgmental eyes of the Beauxbatons and the steaming Durmstrang glare. Victoire had to make sure she didn't look like she was putting effort into her look but had to be as eye catching as ever. Time was flying by with every lipstick colour she discarded, every bracelet tossed to the side and every shoe kicked to the curb. She had to decide. Calling her as she sat on the bed contemplating her next move, was a pair of navy-blue military boots with a proud raven on the back. As she slowly picked them up, she envisioned the moment she received them- her family sitting by the fire as she opened the box, the laughs at her brother trying them on and the pride in her parents faces at their daughter entering her final year as a Ravenclaw. Could there be a pair of shoes any more appropriate? As she slipped her feet into what felt like a warm homey hug, the pale pink matte lipstick was the only one, the black, silver and blue pearl bracelet set made sense with her black beret and the only thing that would decorate her fingers would be the family ring and her promise ring. Gazing at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but grin at the possible future of becoming a Triwizard champion and proving to herself that she wasn't just her appearance and wit.

"Okay, we're ready!" Aaron chimed.

Merrily, Victoire strutted out of her room and down the steps with her boots proudly leading every step she took, her school robe elegantly gliding over the stairs and her confidence higher than ever. She had decided that all Ravenclaws who wished to enter their names into the competition would go together, to ensure that those with less confidence would be supported and to simply bring them all together.

"Having the courage to enter your name already makes you a champion," Victoire declared with cheers filling the common room before they marched to the great hall.

Despite there still being glowing light outside, the hall was darker than usual. Tense was an understatement for the atmosphere, with Hogwarts students being separated from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students, the faintest of whispers could be heard if you concentrated hard enough and the only noise that wanted to be heard was the clapping from whenever anyone put their name into the goblet. The age line circled around the goblet like an almost translucent white wave and the light in the room would change from orange to be blue as people surrendered their names.

Heads turned as the twenty or so Ravenclaws entered the hall, some holding hands as the butterflies increased, others whispering words of encouragement to each other and Victoire, Aaron and Brea debating on whether Dorian Grey was a wizard. Whispers increased as more and more students realized that Ravenclaw's head girl was submitting her name into the most daring and dangerous challenge of the century.

"Hold on a second," Fred attempted to not be too loud as he ran up to Victoire, "you know none of our family would want you to do this right? This isn't deciding to wear pink with red or to wear tweed in summer, this is entering challenges that almost killed our uncle _and_ gives _your mother_ nightmares,"

"Fred Weasley the second, trust me, I have thought this through," Victoire took his hand, "and how could you even mention the profanity of tweed in summer to me?"

As Victoire waited for her turn to enter her name, numerous students offered her support, claiming that if they weren't picked, they'd hope that she was chosen instead, but there was one girl who seemed less than happy about Victoire even existing. Fashioning the infamous silk blue uniform was an ebony skinned girl with her almost black hair put back into a pristine ponytail, her slender face held glowing hazel brown eyes that were fixed on Victoire, plump lips sported a deep lustful and temptingly glistening red and her delicate fingers played with a piece of intricately folded parchment. Rather than being envious of her good looks, Victoire only imagined herself in the uniform of her dreams as the girl slowly walked towards her. Unsure whether to say hello or just ignore her, she gently nodded, which the girl did in return before placing her name in the fire, prompting an eruption of high-pitched cheering from her fellow students.

"What gives her the right to walk like she owns the place?" Brea tutted,

"Probably the fact that daddy bought her the latest Gucci shoes in limited edition tiffany blue velvet," Fred replied with his eyes locked on the girl's feet,

"Something about the way you said 'daddy' made me concerned about that sentence," Aaron laughed as he clapped for the next person to put their name in the fire.

Caring for someone she had never met before was not Victoire's style and instead of looking at her shoes, she stared at the goblet of fire. Invisible forces from the waving fire begged her to come closer as she slid a piece of parchment out from her pocket. She could feel the heat from the flame the closer she got, only lighting her desire to be a champion even more and as if slowly being pulled by a string, her arm reached up to the goblet with the parchment loosely being held in her hand. Quiet flickering from the fire filled her ears as if it were headphones blocking out all noise around her. The parchment slid between her index and middle finger, edging closer and closer to the flame. She had convinced herself that she would have doubts and fears rushing through her head in this crucial moment, yet they didn't even come close to penetrating her skull. Peacefully, she watched the fire begin to devour the edge of the parchment and slowly begin to claim the neatly swirled 'V' of her name. As the flame changed colour, claps began to drown out the sound of its roaring and Victoire smiled as she fed herself to the fire.

"It's good to see that there could be easy competition," a rugged voice with a thick and intriguing accent said.

After pushing through the claps and pats on the back, Victoire found herself standing in front of a six-foot-five dark haired man wearing the thick Durmstrang fur coat. His neat facial hair softened his otherwise too sharp jaw line, blemishing his cream coloured skin were scars on his left cheek and nose and though one eye was a dark wild green, the other was a foggy grey. Towering over her, Victoire could see his arm muscles pressing against his thick coat, his chest puffed out like a proud bird attempting to claim territory and his large hands that she could cook a full English breakfast on interlocked.

"I'm Victoire," she smiled, holding out her puny hand in comparison to his,

"Leon," he shook her hand, not being considerate of her frailness, "you expect to be chosen?"

"Well, yes. Isn't that the case for everyone who enters?"

"For some. But you, you would not last one second in such challenges, you wouldn't even last one second against my four-year-old brother."

Laughter came from the band of Durmstrangs behind him and some of the Beauxbatons girls even decided to chime in, however Hogwarts students did not seem impressed. Victoire wasn't touched by his insult in the slightest, in fact, she found it a bit weak if his goal was to intimidate her.

"I'm sorry, did I say something to offend you and make you act this way towards me?" she didn't wait for the noise to cease,

"I'm sorry little mouse, I can't hear you. Girls like you should stick to writing magazines and making potions, leave something as physical and great as the Triwizard Tournament to men like me," Leon roared at the end of his pig worthy speech with his pig-like mates cheering along,

Victoire shook her head and giggled, making the cheering end abruptly, "Boys like you can be so very amusing. You believe that only those similar to you can be worthy, when in fact you aren't nearly as worthy as the muggle who trims my hair."

Leon narrowed his brow and opened his mouth ready to growl another most likely witless speech at her, but she was not done and put her finger to his lips.

"You talk, well growl, but you're not really saying anything of any relevance. I don't know how it works in your school, but in Hogwarts, we treat each other with respect, yet you seem to be the type who doesn't even know how to spell the word, let alone know the meaning of it."

Sharp hisses came from behind her as if snakes had just seen their prey exposed from the bush it had been hiding in. Smug wasn't a look that Victoire liked to carry so she turned around and gestured for her friends to make leave.

"Blonde slut," Leon spat.

Why couldn't people be more inventive with their insults towards her? Everything came with blonde at the beginning and as they couldn't insult her intelligence, looks, size or fashion sense, they went to the one thing they couldn't be certain of- her sexual activity. She turned around and strode towards Leon, making sure there was barely any space between them as she stared up into his eyes with fire burning in her. Not even she knew what she was going to do next and it was only when she slammed the heavy heel of her army boots into his toe that the words and actions needed came to her. As he winced from the sudden sharp pain, she grabbed his shirt and yanked at it, pulling his face to be in front of hers with their noses almost touching. With the delicacy of a rose petal, she stroked his cheek, forcing a look of lust into her eyes as her grip loosened from his shirt and her fingertips seductively slid up and down his neck and she pressed her lips against his ear knowing the sensation of her breath would have some effect.

"I could run circles around little boys like you," she whispered before kissing his cheek lightly.

Aggressively, she pushed him away with all the force she could muster, forcing him to take several steps back and his stern face became soft with shock as he rubbed his neck to sooth the goosebumps.

"Because _I _think with my brain," she said loud enough as she strutted away, "not with what's tucked between my legs."


	8. Chapter 8

**The Choices**

Wonderful it was to be gifted with several craved attributes- beauty, kindness, forgiveness, elegance and intellect- but patience could never creep its way onto such a list of gifts bestowed upon Victoire. Classes were disturbed by her hunger for one specific day, there wasn't a conversation that didn't have that day mentioned and the ticks and tocks of the clock were no longer seconds, but a reminder that she still had to wait. When she was a child, she would become so impatient during December that she had to be allowed to open three presents before Christmas day to get the constant whining to cease. She could barely wait for water to boil. So, when the heavily awaited day came, it was as if the weight of the universe had been lifted off of her chest and she could finally breathe properly. Today was the day that everyone found out who the Triwizard tournament champions would be.

The day didn't seem very special. Defence against the dark arts was boring enough for Victoire to count how many creases there were on her knuckles, runes was everything she already knew, and she couldn't tell you exactly what happened in charms, simply because her teacher majored in waffling. Sure, spending time with her friends and some of the ghosts was a highlight that she looked forward to everyday, but her heart did a gymnastics routine in anticipation for that evening.

There had to be the grandest of feasts for such an occasion, with the endless bowls and plates being now and again filled with an unknown dish from one of the guest schools to stretch their palettes. All the different hot smells mixed together to become a whirlpool of a mouth-watering fumes that even had some of the ghosts innocently reaching for food and then fleeing to stop the tempting torture. However, excitement and nerves formed a toxin that prevented Victoire from enjoying a meal she was sure on a regular day, she'd devour with not a crumb left behind. Her stomach begged her to eat something, be it a piece of bread or some beef and though she complied a couple of times, she could no longer force down food she feared would happily come back up. A cycle of thoughts occurred in her head- she needed to eat, but the anxiety was too much, but if she wasn't chosen, it would all be for nothing. For weeks, she was yearning for this evening to arrive; now she was craving for it to end.

"You're seriously not going to eat anything?" Brea sounded concerned,

Lying seemed the appropriate course of action, "Well, I ate a lot of snacks before dinner; I don't think my poor belly could take anymore."

Brea shrugged and went back to mopping her plate clean with a piece of bread. Either Victoire was a very convincing liar or Brea knew that she was lying and there was nothing she could do about it. Nerves may have been getting in the way of Victoire's appetite, but it was not obstructing her love of chatting to everyone she possibly could. Some of the new prefects asked her for advice that she was more than willing to give while the plates were being cleared and the ghost of Colin Creevey gave his dramatic interpretation of his year of the Triwizard tournament.

"Just don't take pictures of the Durmstrangs without their permission, they're real funny about it, like the way they look at you, it's like they're a basilisk or something," Colin made his last joke before it was time for everyone to leave the hall.

There was a brief gap for the students to freshen up and prepare for the most important part of the night, giving Victoire time to calm herself down. She roamed the halls by herself, biting her nails and twisting her hair around her fingers, hoping her heart would quit the race it had put itself in. Why did this mean so much to her? Not being part of the competition wouldn't affect her dream of being a world-class businesswoman, it wouldn't stop the world from spinning, and it wouldn't make her grades plummet. Usually she was so sure of herself, confident and unphased even by exams, but this felt heavier. Repeatedly telling herself to calm down, to stop overthinking and to get a grip went from being internal to external, but not in her voice. She slowly turned around to see a familiar face hovering behind her, resting against the wall with a cheeky grin.

The ghost looked her up and down, "The French in you still can't kick out the Weasley genes can it?"

"Uncle Fred, I am very stressed at the moment," she sighed as she sat with her back against the wall next to him,

"I could tell. Hence why I'm here," Fred's ghost sat next to her, "I am going to attempt to speak one of your languages," he cleared his throat, "_girl_, stress is not a good look on you, you need to cool down like beans, take a chill pill, get them hormone-zies in order and breathe."

Laughing was a constant reoccurrence when Victoire was with her Uncle Fred. Though his sassy voice made his words sound ridiculous, they carried more of a punch than she thought they would. What she had needed this whole time was someone her age- well who looked her age- and was family to support her thoughts of wanting to just relax.

"This year is going to be a mess isn't it?" she finally was able to talk,

"Nopes, it will be a breeze. You will feel like you're having constant massages, your top grades will be secure, and you'll even have time to take a month-long trip to the tropical islands," Fred's words reeked of sarcasm.

Five minutes later and Victoire's cheek were in agony from howling at Fred's jokes and yet another embarrassing story about her father when he was growing up. His goal was obviously to ease her mind and get her to actually laugh in a time where her body wanted to shake with anxiousness, but when the clock struck 20:30, nothing could prevent the nerves from creeping in. She turned in the direction of the great hall and let out a heavy sigh.

"Why do you care so much?" Fred asked her softly,

"I just…I just want to be more than I am now. I am stick of just being the pretty blonde girl in fancy clothing. I need to be more," she replied,

"I spent my last moments fighting evil, and I can tell you now, one of the greatest evils can be the lack of faith in ourselves," he let his jacket surround her as his arms made the position of a loose hug, "you are nervous because you're scared you can't do this, but all jokes aside, if you are chosen, I don't think there will be anyone more deserving."

Victoire wished she could feel the warmth of Fred's hug, but could only imagine that his hugs were identical to Uncle George's as she absorbed his words. There was no specific reason why his words impacted her more than if her best friends had said it, yet she slowly but surely began to reassure herself that things would go how they were meant to, and if that meant not being a Triwizard champion, then so be it. She blew her legendary Uncle Fred a kiss, before turning away and with an air of confidence, she walked into the great hall and gently smiled as she walked past her fellow students to her seat in between her best friends. Darkness almost suffocated the hall, with the goblet of fire being the menacing light that came at a price as the crackling of its flame spread across the room. There were no words as Professor McGonagall slowly advanced towards the goblet, students barely looked at each other and they all sat up as McGonagall reached up to the flame as it changed colour. With sudden energy, the flame seemed to erupt, spitting out a neatly folded piece of parchment. Though it had already reached its peak, the silence somehow increased. Legs trembled, hands uncontrollably fiddled, hearts pounded like drums and fingers began to cross as students closed their eyes and begged for their names to be chosen. Whose name would be first?

"The Triwizard tournament champion for Beauxbatons is…" McGonagall carefully unfolded the hot parchment, "Miss Alodie Mauve!"

Claps, cheers, whistles, screams and howls exploded from the crowd as the chosen Beauxbatons student strode up to collect her name with pride.

"That's the snobby girl we saw before," Brea said in Victoire's ear.

Victoire stretched her neck to see the same regal looking girl that glared at her with distain and the speed of her claps decreased rapidly. Something about the aura of Alodie made the regular sweet expression on Victoire's face turn sour, as she watched her blow false kisses to all the congratulating students, shake hands with Professor McGonagall and then disappear to an unknown room. As the noise declined, McGonagall looked back up at the fire, waiting for it to make its next choice.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Aaron whispered, "there have been bets on who will be chosen; most of them are on Lucas."

The compulsion to laugh and gasp was hard to fight, but as the silence settled down, she was able to keep it in and scan the room for Lucas. He was sitting opposite them but slightly to the left, his arm around _another_ Slytherin girl who he obviously had no interest in whatsoever and his fingers crossed. It was common knowledge that he would be the favourite; he was strong, loved by everybody, even his enemies would admit to liking him, and he could've easily been the poster boy for the Triwizard Tournament. As Victoire and Lucas waved at each other, the flame changed colour again, roaring for attention as it spat out another piece of burning parchment.

"The Triwizard Tournament champion for Durmstrang is…" McGonagall was clearly loving the suspense and let the pause continue for a bit too long, "Mister Leon Borislaw!"

Deeper and wilder were the cheers this time and when Leon strode past the girls, squeals joined the commotion as his name was heavily chanted and Victoire weakly clapped. She wasn't going to enthusiastically clap for a boy who treated her like trash for no reason other than her gender, and even her friends around her who recalled their meeting demonstrated false happiness. Watching him go to the private unknown room at the back, let the butterflies flutter into her stomach, while a lump grew in her throat and she began to tap her fingers against her arm.

It was time.

Almost every Hogwarts student had their fingers crossed and it wouldn't have been a surprise if they had their toes crossed too, as the goblet of fire made its presence known for the final time- it's orange and red energetically dancing flame rising with a roar as it let its final choice float into the air. From her seat, Victoire could guess that the piece of parchment was quite small, most likely suggesting the name on the paper was a short one, which meant it wouldn't be Victoire who was chosen. She hoped that if it wasn't her to be chosen, it was to be Lucas or another worthy Ravenclaw who would make their house proud.

"The Triwizard Tournament champion from Hogwarts is…" McGonagall had excitement covering her face as she saw the name the fire had given her.

Professor Longbottom looked over her shoulder from a distance but seemed to still be able to read the name, punching the air and nodding with approval as he prepared himself to clap and cheer. It had to be someone strong and bold, someone everyone knew would win the tournament hands down and who was physically the only competitor for the job.

"…Miss Victoire Weasley!"


	9. Chapter 9

**The Dreaded Letter**

"Victoire Celine Weasley is doing what?!" Fleur stomped through the kitchen of her home.

Teddy was looking after Louis for the day while his parents had some alone time with each other and staying for dinner seemed like a great idea, until Fleur started reading a new letter from Dominique. He had kept to his side of the bargain by keeping her secrets as his secrets, but obviously her sister had decided not to do the same. Standing against the kitchen sink, Fleur covered half of her face with her hand with the other gripping the half-read letter, while Bill, Teddy and Louis remained sat at the dinner table not knowing whether to speak or merely watch.

"'I know Victoire doesn't want you to know, but I feel you should know that she has entered her name into the Triwizard Tournament'. Without letting us know or anything?! She _knows_ how I feel about the bloody thing!" Fleur's voice began to get higher.

As the frustration increased, so did the speed and howling of the wind that pushed the crashing waves harder against the shore and the furiously clanging chimes were the only things that dared to make noise as Fleur breathed heavily. Bravely, Bill got out of his chair and trod carefully towards his wife with his arms beginning to open for her to fall into them. Instead of accepting his embrace, she placed her hands on either arm as if to beg him not to even think of holding her until all her rage was out.

"I…I…I told her stories of that haunting challenge over and over and how could they bring such a thing back?" she looked up to Bill,

"They must've put in new regulations to keep it safe. But you're thinking of back then; this is now," Bill's voice was calming, but most likely not calming enough,

"_Now_, our daughter might as well be risking her life just for a trophy. Why wouldn't she tell us or at least me?! We talk about everything, but she can't talk about _this_? Do you know if anyone else knew?"

Bill shook his head. Teddy wanted to say something to give Fleur some piece of mind, but how could he when he promised his girlfriend he wouldn't? No, he wasn't going to say anything unless he was asked, but little did he know that by lowering his head, biting his lip and shaking his leg, he might as well had shouted the answer to Fleur's question. He heard her delicate footsteps creep towards him and once he saw her feet, he looked up at her hoping she wouldn't ask anything of him.

"But she tells you more than she tells me," her tone may have been hushed, but there was still heated anger burning in it.

He couldn't tell her.

"She told you," Fleur walked away from him furiously, "of course she told him and with him being such a good petit Hufflepuff garçon, he didn't tell us."

Bill gestured for Teddy and Louis to evacuate into the front room, hopefully sparing them from any more fire that Fleur could send flying their way. It was a relief to not have to witness the full extent of Fleur's outrage; the guilt blocked his throat, making breathing more of a task and he wanted to change into a wolf so he could run out into the woods and hide from the uncomfortable situation. The pride he thought he should've felt for keeping his girlfriend's secret had been buried before its blossoming and he needed a very contrasting distraction from the on-edge feeling taking over him. As he turned to look down at Louis, he found bright blue eyes staring back up at him, with an evenly glowing smile and his small delicate hands wrapped around a pack of cards. Teddy took the cards from the gold curly haired angelic boy and smiled at him as he shuffled, doing occasional tricks that made Louis's eyes widen in astonishment. Still eagerly blowing, the wind's whistles could still be heard through the windows and paired with the chimes, it was something calming to focus on so Fleur's fury could be drowned out.

"Mama, will be okay," Louis assured as he sorted out his cards,

"I hope so; I don't like people being anything other than happy," Teddy replied as he placed a card down between them,

"I know. Mama says that's the most annoying thing about you."

Chuckling felt good but was short lived as soon as Fleur entered the room with the letter still clenched in her hand and her face as red as the seal for it. Louis tapped on Teddy's knee as he put down a card and forced his head down as if he was studying each card with the upmost concentration. Luckily, Teddy had his back to Fleur and merely willed himself to not turn around. Anyone would think that the pair were fearful of Fleur and anyone who thought that, was correct. However, the fear was never a 24/7 thing, it would only occur when Fleur had reached boiling point and all sensibility and control had evaporated.

"Snap!" Louis slammed his hand over the cards on the sofa and grinned as he watched Teddy add them to his growing pack.

Roughly, Fleur seized Teddy's shoulder, forcing him to turn to face her and drop some of his cards on the floor. Her eyes were violently fixed on him and glistened with tears of anger that her body pushed forward but her mind pulled back. He was in trouble. For what, he didn't know, and he was dreading finding out. Forcing himself to stay calm, he picked up the fallen cards and gradually, he began to feel less, and less light hit him as if something or someone was blocking it as they got closer to him.

"If you had told me earlier, this wouldn't be happening," Fleur's voice was sinisterly quiet as Teddy looked up to have her face inches away from his,

"It's not his fault, Victoire is an independent girl," Bill placed his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off,

"But maybe if we had known and we had tried, our precious daughter wouldn't be part of the second most horrible thing I have ever experienced in my life!"

A force as rigid and damaging as a brick struck Teddy's chest as he realized what Fleur was talking about. Being part of the Triwizard Tournament meant someone he cherished and kept so close to his heart was going to be maybe as equally close to death. He had heard the stories from Uncle Harry and even had nightmares about them at a young age, but someone as precious as Victoire did not belong in such nightmares.

"Does this mean Vivi is a Triwizard Champion? That's so cool! We can make banners and t-shirts," the excitement in Louis's voice rammed the tension and negativity into a corner,

"That sounds like something we should get the family to help us with," Bill smiled at his innocent son.

There was no point looking at the uncertain bad side of things when the definite good to come out of this was that his girlfriend had achieved one of her goals that she had set her heart on. The brick that hit him crumbled and he began to feel proud as a small smile grew on his face. Louis nudged him to place down a card and when he did, the two slammed their hands over the cards and ended up fighting over who the winner was.

"Personne ne s'en soucie! Comment pouvez-vous ne pas vous en soucier?" it was obvious that this hit a sensitive point in Fleur that no one else had, "none of you have experienced how deadly those challenges are and we won't be able to protect her, we won't be doing one of our only jobs as parents! How can you just…not care?"

The hurt and terror covered Fleur's face and was seeping from her voice. Teddy turned back to her and stood up, looking down at her and wearing a look of sympathy and understanding.

"We do care. You're angry because you fear that she'll endure the consequences of history repeating itself and I understand that. But if we're not positive, we won't be able to support her the way she needs us to. I care about your daughter deeply and knowing she'll be in danger hurts, but the thought of her going through that danger without my support hurts even more," Teddy had never spoken so truthfully to Fleur.

He hoped that his words would calm her down as he watched her breath heavily and look down while fiddling with the letter. Cautiously, Bill came behind Fleur and wrapped his arms around her, reminding her that she wasn't alone in any of this. Instead of pushing him away, Fleur turned around and hugged him as she let go of all her worries. Looking at them and their height difference, reminded Teddy of how much he missed his precious blonde tulip and his arms began to feel cold with having her to hold.

As he sat back on the sofa to continue his game, Fleur gently kissed the top of his head, "Thank you, Teddy, you really do have your mother's kindness."

Hearing about his mother always made Teddy's heart soft and he shared a warm smile with Fleur as she sat with him, took the cards and prepared for the next game.


	10. Chapter 10

**Well Done, Victoire!**

Everyone goes through that unsettling and uncomfortable moment of feeling like someone is watching you like a hawk. Victoire was used to this and had embraced it, however she felt on edge knowing that Alodie and Leon had their dagger eyes on her. She had a tune she couldn't quite name in her head to ease her through the tension as they waited in McGonagall's dimly lit study. There was a smile of glee waiting to surface as Victoire congratulated herself, _I can't believe this is happening, well done, Victoire, well done, _she sang to herself. She stood leaning against a side table that held a statue of a cat on it, with her opponents standing opposite her. Alodie tapped her foot with her arms crossed, occasionally smoothing down her hair and scanning her competition. There was such a sourness in her face that almost spoiled her sweet looks, but Victoire couldn't tell why. Leon was the only one who had reason to maybe slightly dislike Victoire, after she humiliated him in front of his rugged mates, but she hadn't done anything to Alodie other than give her a friendly nod. Trying to occupy herself, Victoire began to fiddle with her promise ring, giving in to the urge of smiling as the image of Teddy's adorable face entered her mind.

"What's made you so happy, blondie?" Leon's rude tone wiped the smile off of her face,

"Nothing that concerns you," she replied,

"She's probably practicing her gracious loser face for after I walk over her body to the cup," Alodie smirked,

"I'm sorry, what?" Victoire took a step forward, ready to challenge her opponent, but the sound of a door opening interrupted her.

McGonagall walked in, with the room becoming brighter with each of her steps and following her was the headmasters of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons and Kingsley following her. As they came closer, Victoire began to step back in line with the other two contestants with her eyes focussed on the people who walked towards her. Biting down on her lip, she repeatedly instructed herself not to speak unless spoken to, to act gracious and to keep her excitement trapped in a little bottle.

"I would like to congratulate you all for being chosen to become history," Kingsley smiled, "such a tournament requires nerve, skill, grit and determination, but do not let the tournament claim the best of you."

Victoire nodded.

"When do we find out what the first task is?" Alodie demanded,

"You will find out on the day of the first task, but that does not mean you cannot prepare yourselves and build on your strengths," Kingsley calmly replied,

"Well, aren't you the most helpful Minster of Magic,"

"Compared to others, I think you'll find that your sarcastic comment carries nothing but truth," Kingsley shared a cheeky look with Victoire.

Being part of the Weasley family meant having the perk of knowing very important people, one of those people being the great Minister of Magic. Though she wasn't close to him and wouldn't see him often, Victoire and Kingsley seemed to share the same humour, making them a dynamic duo at big family gatherings. She looked up to him and the changes he was making in a magical world that was still piecing itself back together. His presence along with McGonagall's made her feel more comfortable around people she would never affiliate herself with if it wasn't for the tournament and as the rules, terms and conditions of the tournament were explained to them, Victoire caught Olympe Maxime looking at her more than what would seem normal.

"Ginerva Weasley will arrive at noon for your pictures and interviews. Now, off to bed; you need to reserve your energy," on Kingsley's words, the champions moved towards their headmasters.

McGonagall ushered Victoire towards her desk while everyone else apart from Kingsley moved to the other side of the room. There were so many questions running through her head, but before she could let one out, she felt a soft couple of taps on her shoulder. Olympe Maxime stood somehow gracefully behind Victoire, towering over her and blocking out most of the light. As a child, Victoire would guess how tall Maxime was, hoping that she would find out at the age of 11 on her first day at her dream school, but at least she had found out now. She didn't believe her mother when she said she was taller than Hagrid and now she owed her 20 galleons.

"Tu ressembles beaucoup à tes mère," Maxime spoke softly,

"On me dit que beaucoup," Victoire looked up at her with a kind smile,

"Non seulement tu as l'accent, mais tu parles parfaitement la langue,"

"Merci beaucoup."

A long sympathetic sigh left Maxime as she wistfully looked at Victoire before turning away and paying attention to Alodie. The brief interaction made Victoire both confused and intrigued as to why she was looked at in such a way and why Olympe Maxime even talked to her in the first place. Though she knew McGonagall was saying something to her, she kept her gaze on Maxime and Alodie. The two were deep into their conversation that Victoire could only guess was about their plans for the tournament, and when they started to leave, Alodie shot Victoire another hateful glare, to which a simple wave in reply would suffice.

"I'm guessing I'll have to say all of that again," McGonagall sighed,

"Oh erm, I mean, if you want to," Victoire smiled,

"Your mother would be proud of you," Kingsley put his hand on her shoulder, "my memories of the last time this tournament was held are not ones I wish to surface, but you have the ability to change that by being a great contender."

Looking down at the ground for a mere second was enough time for Victoire to ask herself, would her mother be proud of her? Not only had she not told her anything about even wanting to take part, she also knew that her mother would object to the idea and had therefore gone against her wishes; all actions that would make a mother less than proud.

Not allowing herself to dwell on the subject, she quickly looked up at Kingsley with a bright smile, "Every great contender must have an equally great outfit."

The hint was enough for McGonagall to go through the draws of her desk until she found a scroll that she spread out and held the light to. It was hard to act impressed by the sketches of the proposed uniform for the tournament, as they were simple with very little effect. The front of the long-sleeved top had four blocks with the two of them being black and the other two being labelled as the colour of whichever house the champion was from. The Hogwarts emblem was proudly in the middle with the trousers being a simple black. She understood that sometimes simple was best, but she wanted to put her stamp on everything so that even if she didn't win, she would have a reason to be remembered. Behind McGonagall's back, she got Kingsley's attention and raised her eyebrows as she mouthed her want to change the design. After a firm nod of approval from him, she took a quill from the desk and began a small sketch in the corner of the page.

"I don't mean to mess with tradition but," Victoire apologised.

Ideas flowed from her brain to the quill and she barely registered what she was creating until she stepped back and took it in. She had drawn a long sleeved turtleneck with holes for her thumbs to go through, to keep with tradition, she had the torso be two diagonal black blocks and two diagonal blue blocks with the Hogwarts emblem in the centre and the trousers were black combat trousers with 'Ravenclaw' written in blue down the left leg and 'Hogwarts' written in blue down the right. She stood up straight with pride on her face at drawing such a good design so quickly, but then turned to McGonagall who didn't seem convinced by it.

"You know this would have to be made in time for your interview tomorrow?" she asked,

"Yes, but that's what magic is for," Victoire sang.

Kingsley chuckled as he picked up the page and rolled it up with a smile.

"Not many students get this treatment, but you, Victoire Weasley, are a promising young witch with an attitude that never ceases to entertain me," Kingsley laughed as he put the scroll in his robes, "so, leave it to me,"

"Thank you so much. I just want to put my mark on it, you know and I'm sorry if it doesn't follow tradition, Professor," a burst of excitement came from within Victoire,

"Oh no, it's not that. Traditions are made to evolve or else how do we grow? It's just," McGonagall looked Victoire up and down, "Weasley's don't tend to come with as much care for fashion as you."


	11. Chapter 11

**Pictures and Words**

"Why can't I wear a beret?!" Victoire stomped her foot as she looked at herself in the mirror,

"Because Alodie will be wearing one and you'll look like a wannabe French girl," Aaron replied before biting into an apple,

"But I'm not a wannabe French girl, I _am_ a French girl!"

"Half French; it doesn't count."

Victoire turned to look at her friend lounging on her bed and gazing at the sky as if he was even allowed in her room. Unfortunately, Brea- the one friend who agreed with all of Victoire's fashion choices- was at a class, which meant she was stuck with the very blunt best friend. Though his matter-of-fact personality helped her make the best decisions, she missed having the constant seal of approval. To look like a prize student, she had to take off her best friend broach and her 'I heart Youngstead' badge, leaving her prefect and head girl badges to shine proudly on her robes. Light bounced off of her gleaming brogues, the pleats in her just above the knee skirt were almost too crisp and she worse a brand-new jumper to look even cleaner. As she started to style her hair, she contemplated any accessories that would fit her uniform and show her individuality, but Aaron wasn't having it.

"I'm just saying, you've already changed the outfit for the tournament, show some grace and love for tradition by not adding anything new to our uniform," Aaron calmly insisted,

"But how am I meant to stand out next to the infamous perfect blue uniform and a tall macho man in a fur jacket?" Victoire asked as she began plaiting small sections of her hair,

"Your smile and personality will put you above them, I promise."

An interview with Aunt Ginny was nothing to worry about, but underneath the thick layers of confidence, there was still a layer of anxiety in Victoire. It was common knowledge that Victoire loved to talk, but if that love took over, she could say something that would damage her image or even the image of Hogwarts. As she pinned down her intricate plaits to the side of her head, Aaron stood behind her and watched her for a second in the mirror. Though she was focussed on her detailed ponytail, she noticed her friend adjust her collar and show a warm smile. Once she had completed her high ponytail, she turned to him and gave him a loving hug. She wasn't sure what the rest of their year would be like, but she knew that the tournament would make her most likely more distant from her friends as she attempted to balance it with her studies. This was the calm before the storm.

"Thank you," Victoire whispered,

"Anything for you, French fry," Aaron held her a little tighter.

Smiling and waving was a repetitive cycle Victoire went through as she strolled through the corridors and students congratulated her. Even some student from the other schools would want to stop and talk to her, but she wasn't going to risk being late to her interview. Upon arriving to McGonagall's office, Alodie and Leon were stood outside the door with their backs facing each other and acting as if the other didn't exist. Victoire's eyes went back and forth from both of them and a grin attempted to creep onto her face at how childish the two seemed. It was as if they had both been put on the naughty step after placing the blame on each other for something that they both did. A quick glance at her watch which showed noon was Victoire's cue to open the doors as she rolled her eyes and sighed heavily.

The champions were greeted by McGonagall and Ginny who both smiled at them warmly as they walked into the room and the doors closed behind them. Seeing family always helped Victoire combat any nerves easier and seeing Aunt Ginny brought her mind to the happy place of in front of the fire playing wizards chess and eating cookies that were meant to be hidden. The light beaming into the room made Ginny's bold ginger hair glow as she tucked it behind her ears and she wore a thick burgundy and navy striped knitted dress, accompanied by a shining new black briefcase. A hug would be Victoire's usual way of saying hello to her aunt; instead she gave her a firm handshake after Alodie and Leon.

"We don't have a lot of time, so let's get you three in place for the photos and then I'll interview you one by one," Ginny's voice was assertive with a hint of cheerfulness as she beckoned over the photographer.

Victoire was used to taking selfies on her cameras or on Teddy's mobile cell phone thingy (whatever you call it) and therefore didn't take kindly to being manhandled and forced into position. First, the photographer scanned the three of them up and down, analysing every detail from their hair to their shoes. Then, he carefully placed Alodie and Victoire behind a chair with a slight gap between them and instructed Leon to sit proudly on the chair.

"You own this room, you own this school, I want to see power ooze from every crevice of your body into the camera," was the photographer's motivational speech as he picked up his camera.

Instantly, Victoire lifted her head a little higher, placed her hand on her hip and looked into the camera hoping whatever she was doing would look good and she wouldn't blink at the flash. Luckily, her eyes stayed open as two pictures were taken, but the photographer did not look convinced by what he was seeing. He began to click his tongue and tap his camera with his finger as he circled them.

"Erm, hunky boy, you swap places with Miss Alodie," he instructed.

Leon looked confused by the instruction and slowly stood up, clearly not knowing why he wasn't good enough for the centre position.

"Quick, quick, gosh if you're this slow, I don't know how you'll last in the tournament," the photographer grabbed his arm and put him into position while Alodie took her place in the chair.

A giggle came from Alodie as she elegantly placed one leg over the other and flicked her hair as if to scream to everyone in the room that she was superior. After a couple of adjustments, the photographer was ready to take the next set of pictures and Victoire only hoped that these would be good enough so she could move on to her interview. Alodie did many over the top and frankly unnecessary poses in the space of what felt like only a couple of seconds; she'd go from smiling to pouting, moving her legs around, changing the way she sat on the chair and adjusting the angle at which her hat sat on her head. But even all of her efforts weren't good enough for the photographer, as he lowered his camera to reveal a disappointed look.

"I swear if you fail me, I'll just take pictures of your shoes! Ravenclaw girl, swap with miss blue and give me what I'm looking for became I am starved of personality from the other two," his words put pressure on her.

Tentatively, she moved from her comfortable spot behind the chair as Alodie stood and looked at her with disgust. At first, sitting in the middle of the two people who she knew would happily rip off her head made her feel on edge, but when she saw the camera slowly be lifted, she allowed confidence, pride and her playful nature to take over. A smirk graced her face, she leaned forward as her head rested on her hand and she imagined Teddy being behind the camera, rather than some over dramatic stranger.

Flash.

Her pose subtly changed into her smiling with her head titled to the left.

Flash.

She crossed her feet over each other, grabbed the edge of the chair and smiled cheerfully.

Flash.

"Trust a Delacour to give me what I need!"

_Thank Rowena, _Victoire said to herself as she changed her pose. She didn't know what the other two were doing; she didn't care, she had herself to worry about and making sure she didn't look like an idiot on the most read thing in the wizarding world.

Next was the interview.

"Just stay calm. I'm not a Rita Skeeter; I'm not going to change what you say to make you sound horrible, for which I expect a great Christmas present," Ginny laughed,

"Don't worry, you'll get something extra special," Victoire laughed along.

With a wave of her hand, Aunt Ginny's deep red quill and pad floated into the air and the quill stood to attention, waiting for words to write. Victoire clutched the end of her skirt subtly as she took a deep breath. This had to go perfectly.

"Victoire Weasley, the blonde bombshell of Hogwarts, the next generation of a legendary family- if I do say so myself- and a girl who obviously loves to stand out. From what I know, you've been on the quidditch team, a prefect, you've recently become head girl and now the Triwizard tournament. How do you feel about your accomplishments?"

Words instantly tumbled out of Victoire's mouth, "I feel elated. I want to do as much as possible to not only make my family proud, but me proud as well, so I'm happy that I'm going to have this to look back on."

More and more questions were fired at her and with her racket mouth, she slammed them out of the court and now it was the end of the match. Pleased with her answers to the questions so far, Victoire became certain that the next one couldn't throw her off and took a sip of water in order to prepare her mouth to answer.

"You come from a family where two members were part of the tournament, one member is known for being the brightest witch of her time and most are known for their bravery in such a dark time. This can be a lot for someone to live up to and as the oldest, do you feel the pressure to be the perfect student on your shoulders? I mean, you've racked up all these achievements, but for what? Is it really because you want to or is it because you need your name to live up to that of your mothers, let alone the rest of your families?"

Aunt Ginny's question echoed in Victoire's head. Her mind became ensnared by the question, begging to be let go and have any other question take over. This was what she was afraid of. A question she was too terrified to even ask herself. It wasn't that she didn't know the answer, it was that both her heart and head were certain of the answer, but it was one she did not wish to admit.

"Erm…" Victoire gulped and looked down.

She couldn't just not answer.

She couldn't let Aunt Ginny down.

"I-I-I know what my family has done, and I couldn't be prouder. I have the upmost respect for them," she took a heavy sigh, "I guess it is a lot of pressure. The fact I was the first one and didn't get into Gryffindor made me realize what I have to follow. I do what I do with my future in mind; I need to have a respected reputation to build my career so I guess my need to achieve so much is because I want the best future for myself, b-b-but also because, well, I mean, my mother is Fleur Delacour, that says it all. I just need to make my parents proud because," she took another heavy sigh as she fought back tears, "without their pride I'm just not complete."

Her voice became softer, more brittle and more delicate than it had ever been before. Ginny took Victoire's hand and looked at her with sympathy in her face. What she had said wasn't even half of what she felt but was the most she had ever said to a family member that wasn't Fred. Upholding the Weasley and Delacour name was a back-crippling weight that she carried ever since she entered Hogwarts and she was getting tired. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she thought of how hard she had tried to gain her parents' approval and all the times she had failed. Perfect Weasley's were Gryffindors who strived to become aura's, while perfect Delacour's attended Beauxbatons and had a pure image, but Victoire had failed at all of this. She had failed. Now she could only try to make it better by attempting to achieve all she could. She didn't want to cry; sadness wasn't an emotion someone who seemed to have a perfect life should feel, but she couldn't hold in her mental exhaustion.

"I'm sorry," Victoire sniffed as she wiped away tears with her sleeve,

"No, I'm sorry," Ginny handed her a handkerchief, "I always worried there would be too much pressure on you and Fred, but I focussed more on Fred than you,"

"But Fred has gone through a lot, he_ needs_ the attention,"

"As so do you."

Adamantly, Victoire shook her head.

"_You_ have made all of us so proud. No female in the Weasley family has achieved so much at such a young age and it's amazing that it's _you_ who's doing all this. I was always too scared to break Weasley tradition, but you do it without even asking for permission and I honestly envy you. When you leave this interview, consider that weight on your shoulders lifted and turned to dust. You do not have to worry about living up to any standards or making any of us proud, because by simply being you, you have made me the proudest aunt in the world."

Victoire nodded before hugging her aunt and smiling through the tears as the suffocating weight became lighter.


	12. Chapter 12

**Awkward Silence Turtle**

One day before the first challenge.

Victoire was feeling the pressure. She had brushed up on her charms and spells with help from various professors with poor Tonka being the usual test subject. The anxiety that came along with not knowing what the first challenge would be, paired with attempting to ace every class was taking over her life and had distancing her from her friends. Laughing with the people she loved was morphing into a distant memory, but thankfully, her friends would not let that happen. While in her final class, a note flew onto her desk telling her to meet outside Hagrid's hut- their usual spot- just before dinner. As soon as she was dismissed, she sped to her room to change, woke up Tonka and they both skipped to the meeting place. Under the radiant sun on a rainbow blanket, her friends sat in an incomplete circle with an empty space between Fred and Brea waiting to be occupied.

"There she is!" Lucas announced.

Everyone cheered and clapped as Victoire approached. Seeing all her friends welcome her with so much excitement made the sunshine brighter and created a warm feeling that she was certain wasn't just the sun's rays kissing her skin. As she sat down, Brea hugged her, and Fred handed her an apple.

"I've heard you've become too busy to eat breakfast," Fred smiled,

"Honestly, I've become so busy that I don't even remember what breakfast is," Victoire laughed.

The gang played cards while sharing the latest gossip, telling jokes and sharing hilarious stories about their year so far. Smiling, laughing and simply being with her closest friends made any stress become temporarily evaporated by the sun and even Tonka seemed happier as she played with Brea's cat. While Lucas shuffled the cards, an obviously dyed blonde-haired girl from Durmstrang walked over to Lucas in a sultry way that no one could ignore. Both her top and trousers were tight enough so to give the illusion of curves and as she squatted next to Lucas, Victoire became slightly worried that she'd hear the rip of fabric or the ping of a flying button. The usual cheeky smile appeared of Lucas's face as the girl kissed him on the cheek and whispered something in his ear. Though everyone watched, prepared to make fun of him later, Fred made himself busy with his shoelaces and then with Tonka, his head never turning in the direction of Lucas.

"Is this how you guys say hello?" Aaron's voice was in between serious and joking,

"Only if you're this cute," the girl purred before kissing Lucas's cheek again and sensually sliding her hand from his shoulder to his chest,

"And none of us are as cute as serpent boy?"

The girl scanned the group of friends with her head resting on Lucas's shoulder, "Not really, but he's absolutely adorable."

This got Fred's attention. He had never been the one to attract girls, well not the saucy girls anyway, which put being the chosen one in the circle shocking to both him and the rest of the gang. He glanced at the girl, but then subtly looked back down.

"Since when was Fred adorable?" Aaron argued,

"Since for a while, blind man! Look at him, if his puppy like eyes, sweet light toffee skin and the cute freckles on his nose don't make you weak, I don't know what does," Lucas insisted.

It was true. Fred was adorable, but no one had defended his looks like Lucas did. With every word, Fred's ears became red with the effect spreading to his cheeks as he smiled with a mixture of embarrassment and flattering. It seemed like the words to say were coming to him, but they weren't the right ones and with an eventual nudge from Victoire, Fred uttered a thank you.

"Sounds like you have a thing for Fred," Victoire teased,

"I have things for girls wearing men's shirts, small waists and French accents," Lucas winked, "but I _do_ _not_ have a thing for Fred. _Definitely _not Fred."

The serious adamants of his words were unnecessary; not knowing Lucas was a lady's man was like not knowing a bird has wings, but he seemed agitated by the harmless joke as he refused to look at Fred while dealing cards for the next game. Awkward might as well have cartwheeled in with blaring sirens, a neon sign and a full parade, as Victoire watched Fred's blush fade just as quickly as the smile on his face. His gaze remained at the ground and he began to fiddle more and more with anything possible. Something was wrong.

"Oh gosh, Fred, we need to go find Albus, come on!" Victoire acted with haste as she threw her cards to the middle of the circle, stuffed a crisp in her mouth and scooped up Tonka.

Her sudden burst of urgency took everyone by surprise, but Fred moved slowly, lifting up his bag as if it held the world inside and sighing as he gradually stood.

"This was amazing guys, see you in a moment," Victoire sang,

"Of course, Vivi, see you later" Lucas smiled with the rest repeating his words.

Grabbing Fred's arm, Victoire speed walked up the hill, dragging Fred behind her and not even looking back to see if he was okay. Never before had there been such a weighted awkward aura surrounding their group of friends, but it wasn't her who needed to escape it. Once closer to the castle, she made sure there was no one within ear shot, as she perched herself in one of the arches and looked sympathetically at her limp cousin. His head remained down and the moment he stopped walking, his bag fell to the floor along with any happiness that was in him.

"Fred?" she made sure for her words to be as gentle as possible.

With his head hanging down, Fred sat next to her and rested his head on her shoulder with a heavy brittle sigh.

"I can't say I know how you feel- I'm lucky I guess- but please don't let what he said get to you," Victoire let Tonka go to the floor, but even she stayed by Fred with worry glowing in her eyes.

Fred took Victoire's hand, "But what he said, it-"

"I know, but he didn't mean it in a horrible way. You know Lucas-"

"Yeah, and he'd rather not know me,"

"That's not true,"

"It bloody feels like it. That night we played truth or dare, he refused to kiss me, but he was fine kissing Aaron. He doesn't even hang out with just me anymore. Maybe I bring down his status, maybe he doesn't want to hang out with the Weasley Wuss."

Victoire waved her wand, summoning Fred's tissues from his bag as she sat him up and forced him to face her. He wasn't just her cousin; he was her best friend and she could feel every tear that fell down his cheeks as if she was mirroring him. He had always been sensitive, but she guessed that's what happened when you were named after your father's deceased identical twin. She would laugh at him when he cried at sad movies, but she couldn't even crack a smile as she wiped away his tears.

"Listen to me, Fred Weasley. Us Weasleys can be described as a lot of things, but a Weasley Wuss is and will never be a thing. You are one of the most beautiful people I know and you're worth much more than you think," she gently kissed his forehead, "I do not allow anything less that brilliant in my regular presence, you know this."

A grin appeared on Fred's face and it fought the tears to stay there.

"Why do I have to be so different?" he sighed.

That was the charm of Fred. Though he had the freckles, he didn't look like a Weasley much. Instead of the usual goal of an aura or taking over the family business, he wanted to make wands and he hadn't even attempted to play quidditch. But his toffee skin made him stand out from everyone else, he would blow the family's minds with facts about wands and he was the undefeated champion at wizards' chess. If he wasn't different, he wouldn't be Fred.

"Because I wouldn't have you any other way and Grandmama wouldn't get your name right first time," Victoire watched his tears slow down.

The two giggled and walked around the castle, talking about everything and nothing, but taking Fred's mind off of his insecurities and taking Victoire's mind off of the challenge. It wasn't until Tonka started to pester her for food that they realized they had spent an hour walking around the castle, and it was now time for dinner. There was a pleasant breeze dancing through the hallway as they reached the doors to the hall. It was easy as pie to pick out her friends in the sea of people stuffing their faces and she waved as she took a step forward but took a step back when she noticed that Fred wasn't as eager about going inside. She followed his gaze to Lucas who had the same fake blonde Durmstrang girl on his lap while he fed her grapes and laughed with his mates.

"I've learnt to accept that sometimes, your version of winning is different to the wins life has planned for you," Victoire pointed in the direction of the Hufflepuff table.

A group of Fred's friends beckoned him over with infectious excitement as if they hadn't seen him in years. Fred's shoulders relaxed, his spine straightened as his mouth decided that smiling looked so much better than frowning, as he matched his friends' excitement and skipped over to them. Victoire couldn't help but laugh as she watched Fred perfectly recite his dorky handshake with his friends.

"He's like a cool dork, isn't he?" Fred the ghost appeared by her side as other ghosts happily entered the hall to surprise the students,

"Oh, hell yeah," she insisted as she merrily followed the ghosts into the hall and turned back to face her uncle, "why do you think he's named after you?"


	13. Chapter 13

**The First Task**

Victoire admired herself in the mirror. The trousers were almost pitch black with the words 'Ravenclaw' and 'Hogwarts' standing out the way she had pictured, her blonde hair stood out against the navy and black and with her top tucked in, the delicate curve of her waist made the outfit more feminine. The cosy tent guarded her and the other contestants from the cold outside, there was a fire ablaze by the navy velvet dressed fourposter bed, McGonagall had smuggled in butterbeer disguised as water in a flask on the side table and there was a medical kit at the bottom of the bed that was already open. She slowly brushed her hand against the bedding, enjoying how it had soaked in the heat and simmered down her roaring anxiety. The chattering grew from outside the tent and she was only able to pinpoint certain things being said like 'place your bets' and 'go go Ravenclaw'.

"Gather round champions, gather round," Kingsley announced.

Distracted by nerves, Victoire hadn't even realized Kingsley had entered the tent and as she slotted into the circle, McGonagall stood behind her to give her support that felt like nothing compared to the support she needed. In Kingsley's hands was a black bag with agitated lumps moving around. Victoire looked at her competition opposite her. Leon looked confidently at the bag, looking back at his headmaster and nodding, while Alodie was still listening to music, cracking her knuckles as if the bag didn't exist. Startling her, a small fire jumped out of the black bag, and when the other two acted like it was a daily occurrence, she knew.

"They know the task," Victoire whispered to McGonagall,

"Something you wish to share?" Alodie's voice surrounded the tent,

"I mean if we're going to start sharing, surely one of you two should go first,"

"Now girls, there's no sharing in the first task. In this bag is a small version of three very real and much larger dragons, you will put your hand in the bag and pick one. Don't worry, they do bite, but it's the equivalent of a paper cut," Kingsley stayed cheery as he gently shook the bag and opened it slightly for Leon to plunge his hand into.

_The first task is DRAGONS?!_

Uncle Harry told her of how he could've easily died while fighting his dragon, and she was just expected to dive into the same amount of risk? Creatures were not her forte, in fact, she was very happy spending her life away from creatures that could scorch her into ash in less than ten seconds. What charms was she meant to use on a dragon? Something that giant wasn't going to be distracted by fireworks and a flying feather. She may have been good at flying, but after Harry's story, that was out of the question. What would the task be? Did she have to tame it? Did she have to mount it? Did she-?

"Your turn, Miss Weasley," Kingsley's warm voice stopped her panicking from escalating any further.

Hesitantly, Victoire adjusted the glove of her trembling right hand and slid in into the bag. Instead of grabbing the small creature, she gave it a minute to mount her hand and as she pulled it out, it blew fire at her and snarled. Its scales were dark with ridges along its back and Victoire fought every impulse to drop it or throw it away from her.

"The Hebridean Black. A native of Scotland and my favourite just because I feel a connection to the name," fear took over Victoire's ability to laugh at Kingsley's joke, "female versions of these dragons will be nesting and guarding a golden egg amongst their own. Your task is to retrieve this egg, as it contains a clue to the next task. We're not savages at the ministry, so we have chained the dragons down and there are dragon keepers on hand if things get out of control."

Though Kingsley carried on talking, his words began to evaporate as Victoire looked into the small beady eyes of her dragon. It seemed primed to attack her, waiting for her to make the first move, but the longer she kept eye contact with it and remained still, its aggression subsided, and it simply curled into a ball on her hand. Maybe this would be how she'd tame the dragon to get the egg, but would it work on something a thousand times the size of what lay in her hand?

She was first, of course. Knowing that Alodie and Leon couldn't watch her struggle with her dragon created some sort of temporary ease, but fright almost petrified her as she stood at the opening of the tent.

"Remember, you are a skilled witch, use those skills," McGonagall placed her hand on her shoulder as the canon was fired and the music began.

She walked out onto the rocks on the beat of the base drum and the cheers erupted as she felt the suns light hit her face. The stadium was a mix of blues and reds, horns and flags, friends and strangers, but all cheering for her as she stood on the jet grey stone. But soon there was silence. Light bounced off of the golden egg, making it seem much more attainable as she estimated that it was one hundred metres away, but would require climbing over some lumps of rock. Slowly, she picked up a cold damp rock and threw it as far as she could. That's when it came. Her spine stiffened in fright as the almost thirty-foot-long dragon made its presence known as it suddenly blew fire at the rock. As she watched it stomp through the rocks, she took out her wand, making sure her movements were almost painfully slow and whispered, "_Accio"_.

It wasn't that easy. How dumb was she to think they would allow the task to be that simple?

"_Bombarda maxima!_" Victoire directed her charm to rocks towards the left of the stadium.

The dragon breathed fire straight away at the rocks and proud of her trickery, Victoire ran in between two rocks that towered over her. As she came closer to the dragon, she aimed her wand at the ridges along its back, briefly admiring the darkness of its scales and how bat-like its wings were. Her two breaths before casting her next charm felt like they were in slow motion, but only last less than a second as the dragon began to turn to face her.

"_Immobulus!_" she smiled with relief as the colossal creature came to a halt, "time to run."

Dashing through the maze of rocks towards the egg gave her an adrenaline rush with her backing track being the cheers of the crowd. She kept her eyes fixed on the golden egg that shined on a rock the towered the others, giving her more and more determination and energy with every step she took. Even when she hit her arm into a rock, her need for the egg erased the pain and pushed her further. She was halfway there, but the cheering had stopped. A shrill cry of her name was her only warning. A warning that came too late. The swooping sound of the dragon's tail filled the air as it smacked into Victoire's back, propelling her side into a sharp piece of rock twice her size. She had never experienced so much pain. It felt like a sword had plunged into her lung, making every breath more painful than the last, needle sharp pulses darted through her broken arm and the excruciating throbbing in her head made her burst into tears. As she tried to find her feet, the scenery around her turned into a blur of different shades of grey, but soon a large dark blob began to create a stream of reds and oranges. She didn't know what was happening or what she was doing, she simply held up her wand and let her mouth move, "_Aqua eructo!_"

Jets of blue engulfed the reds and oranges, forcing the large black blob to hover backwards towards what she guessed was the golden egg. Her sight began to come back to her, but her hearing was completely impaired as once loud steps on the rock became muffled little taps. She took a couple of steps and fell to her feet with a cry of agony.

She couldn't go on.

The dragon glared at her, daring her to make her next move. She felt like a small frail bird just finding its feet as she stood up and took a deep painful breath. A glimpse of the prize helped her construct a plan that would mean as little movement as possible.

"_Avis!_"

A sound like a gunshot struck the air, creating gasps in the crowd. A flock of blue birds sprung into existence and with one look at Victoire, they began to screech as they darted in the direction of the egg. Before the dragon could fight them away, Victoire jetted streams of water over it, keeping its focus on her and disorientating it as she took slow painful steps back towards the exit of the arena. The screeches turned to cheerful chirps as the birds worked together to lift the golden egg and carry it towards Victoire. But pain was taking over and her energy was fading. The dragon attacked her with an eruption of fire, which pushed her onto the ground as she made it divert to the side.

"Please, I just need the egg, please," she whimpered through her tears as she stared into the dragons piercing purple eyes.

The dragon moved closer to her. She could hear the professors ordering the dragon keepers to prepare to act, but Victoire held up her hand, urging them to not move a muscle as she kept her desperate eye contact with the dragon. Agony and yearning poured from her eyes to the dragon's as its tail rested on the floor and it let its guard down.

"Thank you," she smiled weakly as the birds handed her the golden egg and she pushed herself back.

There was sympathy in the dragon's eyes as it watched her attempt to hold in her screams that came from the tiniest movements. Rapidly, she surrendered to the excruciating pain as she collapsed onto the cold stone, with the golden egg clutched to her chest with her remaining strength. She turned to look at her arm. Through her blurred vision, she could see the deep wound from the rock, her blood had mixed with the black ash covering her crooked out of place arm, the laceration created on her back from the arrow-shaped spike at the end of dragons tail made its stinging presence known and the pounding in her head possessed her whole body. The deep breath of the dragon warmed her frozen body before it moved back to guard its eggs and despite the cheering congratulations of the crowd, a smile was too difficult for her to form on her face.

"Victoire, my dear, can you hear us," McGonagall's comforting voice began to fade as it came closer to her.

As her eyes began to close, sending her into darkness, she took a sigh of relief. She had completed the first task.


	14. Chapter 14

**Getting Closer**

Fred guarded his cousin. He hadn't left her side since she was carried out of the arena into the tent. Four hot water bottles were in the bed with her, a hot cloth rested on her head with another by the fire prepared to take on the task of soothing her freezing body and the velvet blue covers had been doubled up. Bandages had been wrapped around her body to cover the wounds on her back and side, her arm had been put in a cast while the nurse focussed on her sprained ankle and scratches attempted to ruin the smooth skin of her cheeks, neck and chest. The only way he had helped was by helping to clean the mix of blood, ash and small rocks from her skin and handing the nurse the things she needed. The task carried on with Alodie being next to face her dragon, but to Fred, everything had come to a halt. He knew she was going to wake up and be as good as new within a couple of days, but the fact she was suffering so much pain took a heavy toll on his heart. She had begun to phase in and out of consciousness, crying in agony when she was awake and shaking when she was asleep. If this was the price of the tournament, Fred needed her to give it up and accept she was amazing with or without the Triwizard cup- like that would ever happen.

"That's our best friend, you could at least let one of us in," Fred heard Brea's voice at the entrance of the tent.

He turned to look see the headmaster of Durmstrang standing at the entrance, blocking Brea, Aaron and Lucas as they peered over his shoulder. Fred honestly wanted to be alone with his cousin, but he couldn't deny them not seeing their injured best friend.

"One of you should stay with Ravenclaw and another should contact Teddy," he suggested,

"Okay, well I ain't no Ravenclaw and Teddy doesn't like me, so I'll stay here," Lucas insisted.

There was an agreement as Brea and Aaron reluctantly left and Lucas was let into the tent. His stride was less bouncy with his steps becoming softer and his chin not reaching the heights it used to. His black puffer jacket was zipped to the top, covering his mouth and he tied up his golden waves as he approached Victoire's bed. Fred felt his breaths shorten slightly as Lucas pulled up a chair next to him and put his hand on his shoulder.

"She was amazing," Lucas's strong Scottish accent carried a weakness,

"Yeah, she was," Fred wanted to put cheeriness in his words, but there was nothing but the trembling of his worry,

"I couldn't pull off that water spell the way she did."

Fred's eyes followed Lucas's rugged hand as it adjusted the covers shielding Victoire from the cold, pushed back her hair, stroked her scratched cheek and went back to his pocket. The compulsion to say something that could lift their spirits was defeated by Fred's inability to find the right words amongst the distress. Shivering, Victoire briefly woke up, wincing in pain as she attempted to see the state of her body.

"Don't move okay, just, just stay calm," the softness of Lucas's words was entrancing, "you're going to be okay. Rest, Victoire."

Nodding feebly, Victoire let her head lower back into the pillows and Fred moved the hot water bottles around in the bed to different parts of her body. Lucas changed the hot cloth that lay on her head with the one that was warming by the fire and kissed her cheek as he sat back down. It was no surprise when she fell unconscious again.

"I forget how small she is sometimes," Lucas muttered,

"You're just ridiculously tall," Fred smiled weakly,

"I mean you're not wrong."

There was another silence.

This time, Lucas shuffled around in his pockets for a moment, before revealing Fred's favourite toffee with a chocolate centre and placing it in his hand. Unwrapping the toffee, Fred found himself smiling at the gesture and Lucas sturdily put his hand on his thigh, sending a welcome uplifting warmth through him. He popped the toffee in his mouth, nodding in approval at its creamy velvety texture and its soothing taste.

"I knew that would cheer you up," Lucas said as he unwrapped his toffee,

"When I was a second year, I got beaten up for the first time and despite them being the biggest of the final years, Victoire defended me. She helped me walk since I felt so dizzy and on the way to the bathroom, the room of requirement revealed itself. There was a bed for me to lie on, music to stop me from panicking, ice packs for my black eye, but the best thing in the room wasn't even created by it," Fred fiddled with the wrapper, "she said that whenever a situation gets bleak, a chocolate filled toffee will put a smile on anyone's face and teach you to appreciate the smallest glimpse of light."

Sharing his emotions and memories was something Fred found impossible to do with anyone but Victoire and his mother, so why was it so easy for him to do it with Lucas? The two of them remained with Victoire even when she was moved to the infirmary in the castle and took turns to use the toilet, change their clothes and get food. They had created a feast of chicken drumsticks, potatoes, pasta and mixed vegetables in an indescribably delicious sauce, with a plate set aside for when Victoire woke up. They sat at the end table, watching over Victoire as they ate and played cards. This was a nerve-racking and emotional time, but somehow Lucas was ale to put those emotions on pause with just his grin and the way he pronounced Fred's name.

"You can't just keep making me pick up cards; it's mean," Fred jokingly whined as he picked up two cards for the fourth time in a row,

"I thought that's what you liked in a guy," Lucas's words made Fred pause and go quiet.

The big red target on his back for the bullying bulls was the fact that he was gay-something that started as a silly rumour and ended up being true. He refused to bring it up as he feared being picked on for it and his friends thankfully respected this, not bringing it up either. So why did Lucas? The uncontrollable blushing had begun, and Lucas's mischievous grin and deep husky chuckle only spurred the blushing on as Fred attempted to hide behind his fanned-out cards. Taking a bite of chicken was simply an excuse to not say anything and he wiped his hands with a napkin before place down five cards.

"I'm curious, what _do you_ like in a guy, Fred. I mean everyone knows what I look for in girls, so why not know what gets _you_ going?" Lucas wasn't going to drop this.

He had to think of something that could end the conversation before it had to go any further. Bringing up his favourite quidditch player wasn't going to help the situation, neither was simply talking about food or depressing the mood by mentioning Victoire's condition. Nothing good enough was coming to him. He had to answer.

"Erm, well, erm, I've never really been asked that question," he said innocently, "I guess, I like tall guys."

Lucas laughed at how general his answer was, "you're adorable."

Fred didn't have to look in a mirror to know his cheeks were as red as tomatoes by now and Lucas seemed to be enjoying it.

"Is there anyone in the school you have a crush on?"

That wasn't going to be revealed any time soon. Fred bit his bottom lip and looked down, hoping the he could avoid the question, go back to their pleasant game of cards and talk about anything other than his romantic interests. The guy he had a crush on was _way_ out of his league, in fact, it was difficult for him to imagine them together because it seemed an impossible goal that would damage him when the reality of never achieving it set in. He'd do all the classic things- doddle their initials together in a heart and then watch as the heart sparkled on the page, adamantly say hello whenever they passed each other and be caught gazing in awe at him like he was an iconic sculpture to be marvelled at. He had sworn Victoire to secrecy over the matter. He wasn't even going to give Lucas a clue.

"No one," Fred's voice slid up an octave,

"Come on, tell me," Lucas turned in his chair to face Fred directly,

"No, you don't need to know,"

"But I do, come on!"

Like a persistent child, Lucas kept moaning that it wasn't fair that he wasn't being told such apparently vital information and like a stern parent, Fred kept by his decision of keeping it to himself. Two card games later and Lucas was still pestering him.

"Stop asking, I'm not gonna tell you," Fred insisted,

"If I kissed you, would you tell me?" Lucas raised one eyebrow in hopes it would support his cause,

"Oh, you'd love that wouldn't you?" Fred leaned in slightly as if he was accepting the offer, "but no."

Fred was becoming more at ease and confident the longer he was with Lucas. Being in control for once was entertaining and he enjoyed their uninterrupted time together. As he laughed, Fred stuck his fork in the pasta, but was stopped by Lucas grabbing his arm almost took firmly and snatching the fork of pasta from him.

"You can't eat that. It has mayonnaise in," Lucas warned, his breath quickening,

"Oh erm, thank you," Fred was stunned.

He looked at the bowls of food as Lucas let go of his arm and sat back in his chair. Lucas hadn't touched the potatoes, not even trying on of the crisp but fluffy golden jewels, when he usually would. He didn't even ask if Fred minded him taking one. Fred then looked at Lucas who was now eating the pasta he had saved Fred from. His golden brown hair had dried and was now let down into beautiful tumbling waves that brushed his shoulders, his tranquil blue eyes twinkled like gems in the dark room as they studied his cards and the way his burly hands glided smoothly through his hair was entrancing.

"What?" Lucas noticed that Fred had been staring a little too long,

Broken out of his trance, Fred began to look at his cards, "It's just, not a lot of people know I'm allergic to mayo,"

Lucas winked, "I know more about you than you think."


	15. Chapter 15

**The Great Lake**

Within a week, Victoire was completely healed and was moving around like nothing had happened. Professors showed their sympathy by extending her deadlines and even allowing her to skip some lessons, as long as she handed in work that was up to their standards. She was grateful that she had such amazing friends that brought her food while she prioritised studying over going to dinner and even Tonka has begun to do thinks like take herself out to use the bathroom. A plain sailing life was surely going to end soon, and she regarded this weekend as the final weekend where she would be able to relax. After the Saturday breakfast, a fire was started by the great lake with Albus stirring up his signature fragrant hot chocolate in a large pot over it and Rose adding more chocolate than required. Teaching Dominique to skip stones, James stood in the lake with the water reaching just above his ankles and Molly's version of helping was proving how she was the better stone skipper. Victoire sat on a thick blanket by the fire, playing fetch with Tonka and helping Fred with his work. This Weasley gathering had become a regular occurrence at least once a month to stop their parents from complaining that they didn't spend enough time with each other, but there was always the odd few who couldn't turn up. Though the cold was mild, Victoire wished she had worn more layers as her ice blue thick sweater couldn't completely protect her and everyone just wanted the hot chocolate to be done so that they could have something to bring feeling to their fingertips.

"It will be done when it's done," Albus insisted for the fourth time, "if you didn't keep adding chocolate, you would be drinking it by now,"

"Don't blame me just because I'm improving your recipe," Rose replied as she resorted to eating the last few blocks of chocolate,

"It doesn't need improvement, you're just a chocoholic."

As Tonka brought back the wrong thick twig, everyone gathered around the fire, staying close to each other to keep the warmth amongst them. Right on time, Albus began to ladle his chocolate mixture into mugs and sprinkled on a mystery substance before passing them round. Lifting the mug to her lips, Victoire smiled as the fragrant fumes danced into her nose and she blew on the hot dark chocolate drink before taking a brave sip. The silk smooth liquid was thicker than your average hot chocolate, but its heat mixed with whatever Albus had put in it soothed the throat as it slid down. Victoire took in its richness as she watched sun's rays play with the surface of the lake, creating sparkles that jumped along the water and black silhouettes of birds pierced through the grey sky as they chirped their morning tune.

"Have you opened the egg yet?" James asked with a ring of chocolate around his mouth,

"Not yet. Uncle Fred said that it's better to open it with you guys around, apparently it's a real surprise," Victoire spoke enthusiastically,

"I would've opened it straight away,"

"Yeah, well, as you know, I was a bit busy. Clean your mouth, James, a moustache doesn't suit you."

When they moved onto their second helping of hot chocolate, Victoire took the large glittering gold egg out of her bag. It attracted the light which made it look more regal as she gripped the clasp and took deep breaths in preparation to reveal what was so beautifully guarded inside. She was hoping there would be a piece of parchment with a riddle on that they could all solve together and maybe some treats inside as a congratulations for getting through the first task, but the egg felt slightly too heavy for that. Maybe there was another egg inside or a book for her to read that would contain the clues for the next task. Drumrolls were made against laps and the ground and she turned the clasp and let the four sections of the egg open like a flower. The high-pitched ear torturing screech emitted from the centre of the egg had even Tonka covering her ears and took away from a hypnotising orb of silver with flexes of gold, blue and green that pulsed in the middle. Victoire tried to brave the piercing noise, hoping something would be revealed in the centre, but eventually gave up and closed the egg.

"That's the surprise uncle Fred was talking about," James sighed.

Disappointment was evident on her face as she put the egg back in her bag and drank her hot chocolate wondering what the clue was. If her competitors cheated the first time, they most likely were going to cheat again, had probably worked out the clue and were fully prepared for what was in store for them. What was an agonizing screech meant to mean?

"Maybe it's to do with creatures again. Think of something that makes such a horrible-" Rose stopped speaking as her gaze went behind Victoire.

The Weasley's all followed her eyes to see Lucas walking towards them. He wore an open thick black coat that only partially covered his blondie chocolate defined torso, his black joggers hugged his hips and his hair was tied into a tight ponytail. James and Albus shook their heads and chuckled at the girls' reaction to him while Fred visibly attempted not to look but failed as he came closer to them.

"A Weasley weekend, I see," Lucas grinned as he knelt next to Victoire,

"This is pretty early for you," Victoire replied as she offered him some hot chocolate,

"Yeah, well," he took a sip and his eyes widened at how good the liquid was, "I've decided to start swimming in the lake, you know, to get my endurance up,"

"You're mad."

Lucas fist-bumped with Fred and waved with a flirty wink at Dominique, Molly and Rose, before jogging to the lake and sliding off his coat. Victoire watched him, not because she was interested in his well-built body, but because he had triggered the wheels in her brain to turn. Something about the lake lingered in her mind and refused to allow her to concentrate on anything else.

Rose had finished her hot chocolate and now had something just as sweet on her mind, "I'm just gonna, erm, yeah,"

"What's with you and Slytherins?" James complained as she got up,

"Wait, Slytherin_s_? Plural?!" Fred was intrigued,

"No, no, no, no plural," Rose's cheeks started to live up to her name,

"You enjoy the presence of the Malfoy boy though," James teased,

"Shut up, James, you know we're just friends, _gosh_," Rose made a sharp turn and made her way to the lake just as Lucas dived in,

"I'll make sure she doesn't try anything," joked Victoire as she followed her cousin.

Victoire followed Rose to the edge of the lake with the water crawling in over the sand and stones and just tapping the tips of her trainers before crawling out again. She envied Rose's absolute disregard to what lay under her feet or within the lake which allowed her to happily enter the water until it was halfway up her shins and reach into to find stones to throw. As a child, Victoire did this at home, but as she grew older, so did the pesky worries and she found simply thinking about entering the Great Lake nerve inducing. Some insisted she was a typical overthinker, while Teddy would agree that not knowing what surrounded you was a rational fear, but he just didn't have it. It didn't make sense to her how someone could freely swim in a body of water that could contain urine or toxins and that was home to dangerous creatures like a _giant_ squid, grindylows and merpeople.

Merpeople.

Secretive, water breathing and singing merpeople.

Flinging her wand in the direction of her bag and the golden egg rapidly shuffled out from the fabric, through the air and into her hands. Once she got the egg, she carefully placed in on the ground and took off her jumper, shivering as a brisk icy wind hit her unguarded arms and her thin vest. As she tied up her hair and pushed off her shoes, she tried to force her assumptions of what could hurt her out of her mind and with the golden egg in her grasp, she took one cautious step into the water. Squealing, she took multiple skittish steps back, coiling back at the cold and the unpleasant sensation of an unknown slimy plant her toes had touched.

"Wow, you're more of a baby than Hugo," Rose laughed,

"Well," Victoire wasn't one to handle such statements well, even if they were true, "at least I'm not too scared to stroke a cat,"

"They have claws, they can literally tear my heart out. Nothing bad can happen to you in the lake,"

"Erm, I could, I don't know, do something like DROWN!"

Rose nodded at her valid point and went back to throwing stones and drooling over Lucas as he took a break from swimming and began to just float. If Lucas could make it into the lake, so could she, even if the bottom of her feet had to go through an acute form of torture. As the water came in, Victoire took quick steps until her ankles were covered. These few steps made her heart thud and beg for her to rethink what she was doing and as she tried to control her breathing, she reminded herself of the much-needed clue that she knew required water. Shutting her eyes tight, she encouraged herself to delve more than her ankles into the breath shortening water, telling herself it would be worth the teeth chattering and attempting to warm up her arms. Underneath her feet, the sand, various sized and textured stones and the swaying weeds made her cringe with unease and sent uncomfortable shivers up her spine. She feared stepping on something sharp and dangerous, but only slightly less than she feared not knowing what could grab her exposed feet if she went deep into the lake. The sound of rippling water stopped caressing her ears and if Lucas was waiting for her, she couldn't be a frail lamb and let him down. She took a few more steps. More weeds slid between her toes and around her ankles as the water now covered her knees. While her ankles were starting to get used to the cold, the rest of her body was dreading it and she could feel every cell in her body tell her to head back to dry land, but the golden egg clutched between her hands compelled her to carry on until her shoulders were submerged.

"Come on, Vivi, you're taking forever," Lucas called,

Victoire opened her eyes and turned back to see how far she had come, "I just need some time."

Now she had to swim. She knew she could stay where she was, but she didn't want to look like her fear of the unknown was controlling her. Inhaling deeply, she pushed off of the lake floor and with the egg tucked under her left arm, she used the strength of her right to keep her gliding through the light teal water until she had finally made it to Lucas. He held her, giving her security in an environment where she felt vulnerable and uncertain, his hand around her waist, "I honestly can't believe you made it this far,"

"I'm both shocked and scared," Victoire laughed as she focussed on keeping her head above the water.

Stinging cold became soothing chills with Lucas's hands guarded her waist with their warmth as she started to feel more comfortable in the lake.

"Just don't look below you," Lucas smiled.

Victoire nodded, repeating the words in her head as she took a series of deep breaths. She wanted to get out of the lake as soon as possible and with that in mind, she plunged herself into the water, making sure she wasn't too far from the surface as her weight begun to pull her down. Willing her eyes to remain fixed on the golden egg before her, she twisted the clutch and when Lucas joined her, the four petals slowly fell until the glowing centre was revealed. Instead of blaring screeching, a choir of sweet female voices serenaded the pair with the swirls of the orb dancing with their notes. The long weeds and small fish began to move in sync with the smooth melody that was as tranquilizing as the ripples of the lake and before she became hypnotized by the beautiful tunes, Victoire was able to decipher the clues buried in the song.

"I hope I don't have to fight a mermaid," Victoire panted as she and Lucas reached the shallows of the lake,

"Aren't they deep in the lake as well?" Lucas waved at Rose,

"Oh, you've finished, would you like a towel or something, I can get you a towel," Rose acted like Victoire didn't even exist.

Lucas chuckled as he declined Rose's offer and teasingly poked her cheek. At first, it seemed like there wasn't much to think about when it came to the second task as the clues were so simple: an hour to search in the depths of the lake for something the merpeople had taken. But with the same brute force as the intense cold, questions hit her, turning the simple into complicated. _What charm am I meant to use to breathe underwater for a whole hour? I'm not even a strong swimmer and I'll have so much to worry about like the temperature and grindylows and that damn giant squid and what am I-_

"Don't worry," Lucas interrupted her panicking internal monologue, "we'll come up with a plan that won't get you battered like a cod and bruised like a peach this time,"

"I don't believe I've ever tasted that combination," Victoire joked as she put on her jumper,

"It's not a delicacy, but a hot bath is."


End file.
